"Can these bones live?"-Ezek. xxxvii. 3. Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye, Where Adam's sons in ruin lie; Sin spreads its trophies o'er the ground,

And scatters heaps of slain around. And can these mouldering bones revive?

And can the souls of sinners live?
That, mighty God, to Thee is known,
The wondrous work is all Thine own.
2

Thy messengers are sent in vain
To prophesy upon the slain,
In vain they call, in vain they cry,
Till Thine almighty aid be nigh.
But if Thy Spirit give them breath,
Life kindles through the realms of
death;

Dry bones obey Thy vital voice,
And new-born souls in Thee rejoice.