1 How lost was my condition,
Till Jesus made me whole!
There is but one physician
Can cure a sin-sick soul!
Next door to death he found me,
And snatch'd me from the grave;
To tell to all around me,
His wond'rous pow'r to save.
2 The worst of all diseases
Is light, compar'd with sin;
On ev'ry part it seizes,
But rages most within:
'Tis palsy, plague, and fever,
And madness--all combin'd;
And none but a believer,
The least relief can find.
3 From men great skill professing,
I thought a cure to gain;
But this prov'd more distressing,
And added to my pain:
Some said that nothing ail'd me,
Some gave me up for lost,
Thus ev'ry refuge fail'd me,
And all my hopes were cross'd.
4 At length this great Physician,
How matchless is his grace!
Accepted my petition,
And undertook my case;
First gave me sight to view him,
For sin my eyes had seal'd;
Then bid me look unto him;
I look'd, and I was heal'd.
5 A dying, risen JESUS,
Seen by the eye of faith;
From every danger frees us,
And saves the soul from death:
Come then to this Physician,
His help he'll freely give;
He makes no hard condition,
'Tis only--look, and live.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | How lost was my condition |
Title: | Christ the good Physician |
Meter: | Sevens and Sixes |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1799 |
Topic: | Christ: Looking to him; Christ: The good pysician; God: Reasoning with men |