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.