PHYSICIAN of my sin-sick soul, To Thee I bring my case; My raging malady control, And heal me by Thy grace.
Pity the anguish I endure, See how I mourn and pine; For never can I gain a cure From any hand but Thine.
I would disclose my whole complaint, But where shall I begin? No words of mine can fully paint The picture of my sin.
It lies not in a single part, But through my life is spread; With deep corruption in my heart, And evil in my head.
It makes me deaf, and dumb, and blind, Disfigured, weak and lame; And overclouds and fills my mind With folly, self and shame.
O Lord of mercy, hear my cry, And set my spirit free: Thou wilt not let a sinner die Who longs to live for Thee.
John ewton, 1725-1807