Preachers may, from Ezekiel’s case,

Draw hope in this declining day,

A proof like this, of sovereign grace

Should chase our unbelief away.

When sent to preach to mould’ring bones,

Who could have thought he would succeed?

But well he knew, the LORD from stones

Could raise up Abram’s chosen seed.

Can these be made a num’rous host,

And such dry bones new life receive?

The prophet answered, “LORD thou knowst

They shall, if thou commandment give.”

Like him, around I cast my eye,

And O! what heaps of bones appear!

Like him, by JESUS sent, I’ll try,

For he can cause the dead to hear.

Hear, ye dry bones, the Savior’s word!

He, who when dying, gasped, “Forgive,”

That gracious, sinner–loving LORD,

Says, “Look to me, dry bones, and live.”

Thou heav’nly wind awake and blow,

In answer to the prayer of faith;

Now thine almighty influence show,

And fill dry bones with living breath.

O make them hear, and feel, and shake,

And, at thy call, obedient move;

The bonds of death and Satan break,

And bone to bone unite in love.