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Hardness of heart lamented.
THAT I could repent!
Thou, by thy voice, the marble rend,
2 Saviour, and Prince of peace!
And then the load remove:
The Physician needed.
THOU, whom once they flock'd to hear,Thy words to hear, thy power to feel,— Suffer a sinner to draw near, And graciously receive me still.
2 They that be whole, thyself hast said,
And wait thine utmost power to save.
The most invet'rate plague can cure. 4 Helpless howe'er my spirit lies,
And long hath languish'd at the pool: A word of thine shall make it rise,
And speak me in a moment whole.
1st P. M. 6 lines 8s.
Whate'er thy every creature needs;
Christ, the good Physician.
JESUS, thy far-extended fame
My drooping soul exults to hear; Thy Name, thy all-restoring Name,
Is music in a sinner's ear.
2 Sinners of old thou didst receive
3 And art thou not the Saviour still,
hundred are past
The healing power of Christ.
Since Christ did in the flesh appear, His tender mercies ever last,
And still his healing power is here. 2 Would he the body's health restore, And not regard the sin-sick soul? The sin-sick soul he loves much more, And surely he will make it whole. 3 All my disease, my every sin,
To thee, O Jesus, I confess :
4 That token of thine utmost good,
Lord, help my unbelief.
HOW sad our state by nature is;
Our sin, how deep it stains; And Satan binds our captive souls Fast in his slavish chains.
2 But there's a voice of sov'reign grace Sounds from the sacred word:
Ho! ye despairing sinners, come,
3 My soul obeys the gracious call, And runs to this relief;
I would believe thy promise, Lord;
4 To the blest fountain of thy blood,
Here let me wash my guilty soul
5 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, Into thine arms I fall;
Be thou my strength and righteousness,My Jesus, and my all.
The Day-star from on high.
My former hopes are fled;
terror now begins: I feel, alas! that I am dead In trespasses and sins.
2 Ah, whither shall I fly?
3 When I review my ways,
4 With trembling hope, I see
5 Forerunner of the sun,
The struggling captive.
ORD, with a grieved and aching heart,
Supply my wants; thy grace impart
2 On my sad heart the burden lies;
3 Break, break, O Lord, these tyrant chains, And set the struggling captive free; Redeem'd from everlasting pains,
And bring me safe to heaven and thee.
Balm in Gilead, and a good Physician there.
In vain, alas! is nature's aid;
The work exceeds her utmost power.
2 But can no sov'reign balm be found,
3 There is a great Physician near; Look up, O fainting soul, and live: See, in his heavenly smiles, appear
Such help as nature cannot give.
4 See, in the Saviour's dying blood,
A balm for all thy grief and wo.