The story’s told of Witch Spell Hill
Atop its windswept height,
About a homeless drunken wretch
Who finally saw the light.
Among the other homeless men
His name commanded fear.
They kept their distance, rarely spoke,
Though why was never clear.
He wandered to the Mission Hall
On numerous occasions,
Took his meal and mocked the man
Who offered up oblations.
He came to eat but left with more
Upon one fateful day
When Bill, the wretch of Witch Spell Hill,
Heard the preacher say,
“If you are tired of fighting life,
And long to have some hope,
If you are dying and afraid,
And don’t know how to cope,
I know Someone Who’s strong to save.
His Name is Jesus Christ.
If you would come and pray with me,
He’ll rearrange your life.”
Bill considered what was said,
And what he had become.
He took a step, then two and three,
Toward the podium.
Bill, now changed like Saul of Tarsus
When he met the living Lord,
Felt scales fall from his rheumy eyes
And knew he was restored.
In gratitude, like Paul before,
He went to save the others,
The forlorn men of Witch Spell Hill,
The ones who now were brothers.
You still can hear on quiet nights
A strong clear voice proclaim
The saving grace of Jesus Christ
Who takes away all shame.
Atop a hill with windswept heights
The gospel words are spoken
By Bill, the Preacher of Witch Spell Hill,
A man no longer broken.
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