Ezekiel's Vision of the Dry Bones

Verse 1

Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye; See Adam's race in ruin lie; Sin spreads its trophies o'er the ground, And scatters slaughtered heaps around.

Verse 2

And can these mould'ring corpses live? And can these perish'd bones revive? That, mighty God, to you is known; That wondrous work is all your own.

Verse 3

But if your spirit deigns to breathe, Life spreads thru' all the realms of death: Dry bones obey your powerful voice; They move, they waken, they rejoice,

Verse 4

So when your trumpet's awful sound Shall shake the Heav'ns and rend the ground, Dead saints shall from their tombs arise, And spring to life beyond the skies.