There is an eye that ne­ver sleeps
Beneath the wing of night;
There is an ear that ne­ver shuts
When sink the beams of light.

There is an arm that ne­ver tires
When hu­man strength gives way;
There is a love that ne­ver fails
When earth­ly loves de­cay.

That eye is fixed on se­raph throngs;
That arm up­holds the sky;
That ear is filled with an­gel songs;
That love is throned on high.

But there’s a pow­er which man can wield
When mor­tal aid is vain,
That eye, that arm, that love to reach,
That list­en­ing ear to gain.

That pow­er is pray­er, which soars on high,
Through Je­sus, to the throne,
And moves the hand which moves the world,
To bring sal­va­tion down.