XLV. THE SAME.
Hymn 3.
[Help, gracious Lord, my deep distress]
Help, gracious Lord, my deep distress
To Thee with anguish I reveal,
Who every sickness and disease
Dost still among Thy people heal.
O wouldst Thou undertake for me,
Exert Thy healing art Divine!
My complicated malady
Mocks every other help but Thine.
A secret, slow, internal fire
Consumes my soul with lingering pains,
The restless fever of desire
Throughout my fallen nature reigns.
Jesu, this eagerness of praise,
This raging thirst of creature-good,
Allay with Thy refreshing grace,
Extinguish with Thy balmy blood.
See the poor patient at Thy feet,
And now the gracious wonder show;
I long Thy healing touch to meet,
I gasp Thy pardoning love to know.
Now, Saviour, now the fever chide,
The virtue of Thy name exert,
The fierceness of desire and pride
Rebuke, and bid my sin depart.
Soon as Thy hand the balm applies,
My dying soul from sin set free
With instantaneous health shall rise,
And gladly serve Thy saints and Thee!
The servant of Thy church below,
With all who know their sins forgiven,
Pardon'd I in Thy peace shall go,
And walk, and run, and fly to heaven.
