1. Here at Bethesda’s pool, the poor,
The withered, halt, and blind;
With waiting hearts expect a cure,
And free admittance find.
2. Here streams of wondrous virtue flow
To heal a sin-sick soul;
To wash the filthy white as snow,
And make the wounded whole.
3. The dumb break forth in songs of praise,
The blind their sight receive;
The cripple runs in wisdom’s ways,
The dead revive, and live!
4. Restrained to no one case, or time,
These waters always move;
Sinners, in every age and clime,
Their vital influence prove.
5. Yet numbers daily near them lie,
Who meet with no relief;
With life in view they pine and die
In hopeless unbelief.
6. ’Tis strange they should refuse to bathe,
And yet frequent the pool;
But none can even wish for faith,
While love of sin bears rule.
7. Satan their consciences has sealed,
And stupefied their thought;
For were they willing to be healed,
The cure would soon be wrought.
8. Do Thou, dear Savior, interpose,
Their stubborn wills constrain;
Or else to them the water flows,
And grace is preached in vain.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #2090
|Instances (1 - 1 of 1)||Title||First Line||Tune||Tune Key||Author||Meter||Scripture||Date||Subject||Source|
|The Cyber Hymnal #2090||Here at Bethesda's Pool||Here at Bethesda's pool, the poor||BEATITUDO||John Newton||CM||<cite>Olney Hymns</cite> (London: W. Oliver, 1779)|