1 Deep are the wounds which sin has made;
Where shall the sinner find a cure?
In vain, alas! is nature’s aid;
The work exceeds her utmost power.

2 But can no sovereign balm be found,
And is no kind physician nigh,
To ease the pain, and heal the wound,
Ere life and hope forever fly?

3 There is a great Physician near;
Look up, O fainting soul, and live;
See, in his heavenly smiles appear
Such help as nature cannot give.

Added by

Blessy Christlin


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