Verse 1
Saviour, thy balmy grace impart,
Physician of the sinsick heart,
Thou only canst its plague remove,
And heal me by thy precious love:
A sinner at the point to die,
I live, if Thou thy blood apply,
To perfect sanity restor’d,
And one with my Almighty Lord.
Verse 2
That health of soul I gasp to know,
Which only Jesus can bestow,
Jesus, thy sovereign skill display,
And take this seed of sin away,
Th’ original infirmity,
O were it now expel’d by Thee
Who didst my every pain indure
And die thyself, t’ effect my cure.
Verse 3
The world with feeble saints agree
In vain to urge, “It cannot be!
“Sin must remain, howe’er expel’d,
“And heal’d; ye never will be heal’d!”
I trust my kind Physician’s skill,
And sav’d, according to thy will,
Shall live a saint, in love compleat,
Shall die a sinner at thy feet.