The worst of all diseases
Is slight compared with sin;
On every part it seizes,
But rages most within.
‘Tis palsy, plague, and fever,
And madness all combined;
And none but a believer
The least relief can find.
From men great skill professing
I thought a cure to gain.
But this proved most distressing,
And added to my pain.
Some thought that nothing ailed me,
Some gave me up for lost;
Thus every refuge failed me,
And all my hopes were crossed.
At length, the great Physician—
How matchless is His grace!—
Accepted my petition
And understood “my case.”
First gave me sight to see Him,
For sin my eyes had sealed,
Then bade me look unto Him.
I looked, and I was healed.
ML 12/16/1956