Luke 6. 19.
Ye mourning sinners, here disclose
Your deep complaints your various woes;
Approach, ’tis Jesus, he can heal
The pains which mourning sinners feel.
To eyes long clos’d in mental night,
Strangers to all the joys of light,
His Word imparts a blissful ray:
Sweet morning of celestial day!
Ye helpless lame, lift up your eyes,
The Lord, the Saviour bids you rise;
New life and strength his voice conveys,
And plaintive groans are chang’d for praise.
Nor shall the leper hopeless lie
Beneath the Great Physician’s eye;
Sin’s deepest power his word controuls,
That fatal leprosy of souls.
That hand divine, which can asswage
The burning fever’s restless rage;
That hand, omnipotent and kind,
Can cool the fever of the mind.
When freezing palsy chills the veins,
And pale, cold Death already reigns,
He speaks; the vital powers revive:
He speaks, and dying sinners live.
Dear Lord, we wait thy healing hand;
Diseases fly at thy command;
O let thy sovereign touch impart
Life, strength, and health to every heart!
Then shall the sick, the blind, the lame,
Adore their Great Physician’s name;
Then dying souls shall bless their God,
And spread thy wonderous praise abroad.
Collection of Hymns Adapted to Public Worship, no. 115 (stanzas 1-7); Poems, 1780, vol. 1, pp. 15-16; MS, Steele Collection, Angus Library, Regents Park College, STE 3/1/4 no. 13 and STE 3/1/6 no. 4; also Nonconformist Women Writers, vol. 1, pp. 42-43.