MY soul lies cleaving to the dust;

MY soul lies cleaving to the dust; Lord, give me life divine; From vain desires and every lust, Turn oft these eyes of mine.

I need the influence of Thy grace To speed me in Thy way, Lest I should loiter in my race Or turn my feet astray.

When sore afflictions press me down, I need Thy quickening powers; Thy word that I have rested on Shall help my heaviest hours.

Are not Thy mercies sovereign still, And Thou a faithful God? Wilt Thou not grant me warmer zeal To run the heavenly road?

Does not my heart Thy precepts love, And long to see Thy face? And yet how slow my spirits move Without enlivening grace!

Then shall Hove Thy gospel more, And ne'er forget Thy word, When I have felt its quickening power To draw me near the Lord.