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1LORD, I despair myself to heal: I see my sin, but cannot feel; I cannot, till thy Spirit blow, And bid the obedient waters flow. 2'Tis thine a heart of flesh to give, Thy gifts I only can receive; Here then to thee I all resign; To draw, redeem, and seal, is thine. 3With simple faith on thee I call, My light, my life, my Lord, my all: I wait the moving of the pool, I wait the word that speaks me whole. 4Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure, Make my infected nature pure; Peace, righteousness, and joy impart, And pour thyself into my heart.

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