A Selection of Hymns ‎#CLXXXVIII

CLXXXVIII. Phisician of Souls

1 Deep are the wounds which sin hath made
Where shall the sinner find a cure?
In vain, alas, is nature's aid,
The work exceeds all nature's power.

2 Sin like a raging fever, reigns,
With fatal strength in every part;
The dire contagion fills the veins,
And spreads its poison to the heart.

3 And can no sovereign balm be found?
And is no kind phisician nigh
To ease the pain, and heal the wound,
Ere life and hope for ever fly?

4 There is a great phisician near,
Look up, O fainting soul, and live;
See, in his heavenly smiles appear
Such ease as nature cannot give!

5 See in the Savior's dying blood
Life, health, and bliss, abundant flow!
'Tis only this dear, sacred flood
Can ease thy pain and heal thy woe.

6 Sin throws in vain its pointed dart,
For here a sovereign Cure is found;
A cordial for a fainting heart,
A balm for every painful wound.

Text Information

• First Line: Deep are the wounds which sin has made
• Title: Phisician of Souls
• Author: Steele
• Meter: L. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1792
• Scripture:
  Jeremiah 8:22
• Topic: Characters and Representations of Christ: Physician of Souls; Christ: Physician of the soul

Tune Information

(No tune information)