Hymn 115. The Great Physician

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.