The New Ezekiel
What, can these dead bones live,
whose sap is dried
By twenty scorching centuries of
Is this the House of Israel, whose
Is as a tale that’s told, an
Are these ignoble relics all that
Of psalmist, priest, and prophet?
Can the breath of very heaven bid
these bones revive,
Open the graves and clothe the ribs
Yea, prophesy, the Lord hath said.
Again say top the wind, come forth
and breathe afresh,
Even that they may live upon these
And bone to bone shall leap, and
flesh to flesh.
The Spirit is not dead, proclaim
Where lay dead bones, a host of
armed men stand!
I ope your graves, my people, saith
And I shall place you living in