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1 The fall of man how deep and great, How sad and wretched is his state; God's image in his soul effac'd! To all reproach and shame abas'd. 2 Subject to Satan and his pow'r, Can love and serve his God no more; The drifts and studies of his mind, Are of the base and vilest kind. 3 Poor helpless creature in this blood? Yet lives at enmity with God, To God and all his ways estrang'd, Until his heart by brace is chang'd. 4 The head is sick, the heart is faint, Incurable is the complaint; The wisest angels from above! Their sad diseases can't remove. 5 Jesus, physician of the soul, Can only make such patients whole; Such medicine as he doth give, Can make the dying soul to live. 6 His precious blood for sinners shed, Is the bless'd Balm of Giliad! A medicine of greater worth Than all in heav'n or all on earth. 7 Ye sick and fainting souls draw nigh, To him alone for help apply; Such wounds and bruises as ye feel, Will Christ your great physician heal. 8 His love and grace to you abounds; How sweet his invitation sounds; Come unto me ye helpless poor, Your health and life I will restore. | Church Hymn Book: consisting of newly composed hymns with the addition of hymns and psalms, from other authors, carefully adapted for the use of public worship, and many other occasions (1st ed.) #CCLXX (1816) |