Classic Poem

O Gracious Lord, thou only King of Kings,
Who only Saving Health and Comfort brings
To the Afflicted, that in Faith do cry
To thee! 'Tis thou canst heal each Malady;
Thou a Physitian of Physitians art,
And of thy Mercies freely dost impart
Unto thy Creatures, who have none but thee
To hope for help from, in their Misery.
O thou that to the Blind restored Sight,
Capacitating to behold the Light,
Which makes things manifest, whereby we may
Walk without Stumbling, and not lose our way:
Who likewise didst the Dumb Man's Tongue unty,
That he might speak, thy Name to magnify;
The Dead reviv'dst, the Bury'd rais'd again,
Strengthned the Ancle-Bones , whereby the Lame
Leap'd as an Hart: Thy Pow'r is still the same.
O thou that art the God of Love alone!
Look down, look down, from thy most Gracious Throne;
Have Mercy on me, ease me from my Grief,
And grant unto thy Hand-maid some Relief;
Hold forth thy Righteous Scepter, and say, Live ;
'Tis thou alone that canst my Sins forgive:
Speak but the word, and my — Infirmities
Shall soon be heal'd. — Ah, heal my feeble Eyes,
Of Soul and Body, Lord, that I may see
Thy Heav'nly Light, and learn to follow thee!
And in thy Fear spend my remaining Days,
To tell thy Goodness, and to sing — thy Praise.