O Lord, Thy work re­vive,
In Zi­on’s gloomy hour,
And make her dy­ing grac­es live
By Thy re­stor­ing power.

O let Thy chos­en few
Awake to ear­nest pray­er;
Their co­ve­nant again re­new,
And walk in fi­li­al fear.

Thy Spi­rit then will speak
Through lips of hum­ble clay,
Till hearts of ada­mant shall break,
Till re­bels shall ob­ey.

Now lend Thy gra­cious ear;
Now list­en to our cry;
O come and bring sal­va­tion near;
Our souls on Thee re­ly.