The prison-house in which I live Is falling to decay, But God renews my spirit's strength, Within these walls of clay.
For me a dimness slowly creeps Around earth's fairest light, But heaven grows clearer to my view, And fairer to my sight.
It may be earth's sweet harmonies Are duller to my ear, But music from my Father's house Begins to float more near.
Then let the pillars of my home Crumble and fall away;Lo, God's dear love within my soul Renews it day by day.