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O Thou, whom once they flocked to hear, Thy words to hear, Thy pow'r to feel; Suffer the sinners to draw near, And graciously receive us still.

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They that be whole, Thyself hast said, No need of a physician have; But I am sick; and want Thine aid, And want Thine utmost pow'r to save.

Thy pow'r, and truth, and love divine, The same from age to age endure; A word, a gracious word of Thine, The most inveterate plague can cure.

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Helpless howe'er my spirit lies And long hath Ianguish'd at the pool, A word of Thine shall make me rise, And speak me in a moment whole.

Eighteen, or eight-and-thirty, years Or thousands, are alike to Thee Soon as Thy saving grace appears, My plague is gone, my heart is free.

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Make this the acceptable hour, Come, O my soul's Physician, Thou I Display Thy sanctifying pow'r, And show me Thy salvation now.