My soul lies cleav­ing to the dust;
Lord, give me life di­vine;
From vain de­sires and ev­ery lust
Turn off 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 heav’n­ly 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 I love Thy Gos­pel more,
And ne’er for­get Thy Word,
When I have felt its quick­en­ing pow­er,
To draw me near the Lord.