1 "Ah! never was sorrow like mine,"
Thought he who was laid at the pool;
"Through ages of trouble I pine,
None cares if I ever be whole:
From season to season I wait,
The winters and summers roll round;
Yet said and still sadder my fate,
No help for the friendless is found.
2 "How often, since hither I came,
Have others successfully tried;
The wither'd, the blind, and the lame
Were cured, who have lain at my side;
How oft, when the waters were stirr'd,
Have I to their pity appeal'd;
Alas! that I never was heard,
They pass'd me--stepp'd in, and were heal'd."
3 Thus wearied with waiting, and faint;
Despairing of friendship or cure,
He pour'd out his doleful complaint,
Nor dream'd of a friend at the door:
"Wilt thou be made whole!" said a voice--
And pity exhaled in the breath:
"Alas!" said the sufferer, "no choice
Remains for the hopeless, but death."
4 "Arise up and walk; thou art whole;
Go, take up thy bed and remove;
No longer remain at the pool;
Acknowledge the cure from above."
Thus spoke the good stranger, and pass'd;
The sufferer was straitway restored;
And, victor o'er sorrow at last,
He walk'd, and rejoiced, and adored.
5 Oh! thou that hast waited in tears,
The angel of grace to descend;
Come, banish thy sorrow and fears,
And welcome this heavenly Friend:
'Tis Jesus, thy Saviour and Lord;
How kindly he speaks to thy soul!
What love is revealed in his word!
"Say, wilt thou to-day be made whole?"
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