beside the gospel pool

beside the gospel pool
appointed for the poor;
from year to year, my helpless soul
has waited for a cure.

how often have i seen
the healing waters move;
and others, round me, stepping in
their efficacy prove.

but my complaints remain,
i feel the very same;
as full of guilt, and fear, and pain.
as when at first i came.

o would the lord appear
my malady to heal;
he knows how long i’ve languished here;
and what distress i feel.

how often have i thought
why should i longer lie?
surely the mercy i have sought
is not for such as i.

but whither can i go?
there is no other pool
where streams of sovereign virtue flow
to make a sinner whole.

here then, from day to day,
i’ll wait, and hope, and try;
can jesus hear a sinner pray,
yet suffer him to die?

no: he is full of grace;
he never will permit
a soul, that fain would see his face,
to perish at his feet.