1 Jesus, Physician of the soul,
Each raging evil can control;
He looks on man's distressed case,
And shews his pow'r, his love and grace.
2 He knows the anguish, such endure,
Which none but he himself can cure;
None but his sacred pow'r divine,
Can ease such souls who mourn and pine.
3 The head is sick, the heart is faint,
They can't describe their own complaint;
Such kind of mis'ry as they feel,
Which they themselves cannot reveal.
4 Great pain and anguish fills the heart,
They feel distress'd in ev'ry part;
A shaking Palsey fills the head,
And they are helpless as the dead.
5 These are the great effects of sin,
Defiles the whole of man within;
The cause of all that great distress,
The cause of all unhappiness.
6 When they are to the Saviour brought,
They soon will find the help they sought;
For all their sorrows, pain and grief,
The Saviour gives them sure relief.
7 He bids them neither doubt nor fear,
By pray'r and confidence draw near;
Their guilt an crimes he will forgive,
Cure their complaints and make them live.
8 Come then ye sin-sick, needy, poor,
With thankful hearts receive the cure;
His blood will cleanse you of your stain,
And make you heirs of grace again.