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.