The Good Physician

I

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 wondrous power to save.

II

The worst of all diseases
  Is light compared with sin;
On every part it seizes,
  But rages most within:
’Tis palsy, dropsy, fever,
  And madness⁠—all combined;
And none but a believer
  The least relief can find.

III

From men great skill professing
  I thought a cure to gain;
But this proved more distressing,
  And added to my pain:
Some said that nothing ail’d me,
  Some gave me up for lost;
Thus every refuge fail’d me,
  And all my hopes were cross’d.

IV

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 sight had seal’d,
Then bid me look unto him⁠—
  I look’d, and I was heal’d.

V

A dying, risen Jesus,
  Seen by the eye of faith,
At once from anguish 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.