83.
A sick Soul.——Matt, ix, 12.
1 PHYSICIAN of my sin-sick soul,
To thee I bring my case ;
My raging malady control,
And heal me by thy grace.
2 Pity the anguish I endure,
See how I mourn and pine ;
For never can I hope a cure
From any hand but thine.
3 I would disclose my whole complaint,
But where shall I begin ?
No words of mine can fully paint
That worst distemper, sin.
4 It lies not in a single part,
But through my frame is spread ;
A burning fever in my heart,
A palsy in my head.
5 It makes me deaf and dumb and blind,
And impotent and lame ;
It overclouds and fills my mind
With folly, fear, and shame.
6 A thousand evil thoughts intrude
Tumultuous in my breast ;
Which indispose me for my food,
And rob me of my rest.
7 Lord, I am sick, regard my cry,
And set my spirit free :
Say, canst thou let a sinner die,
Who longs to live to thee ?
84.
Satan returning.—Matt, xii, 43-45.
1 WHEN Jesus claims the sinner s heart, W T here Satan ruled before, The evil spirit must depart, And dares return no more. </poem>
