1 Jesu, thy far extended fame
My drooping soul exults to hear:
Thy name, thy all restoring name,
Is music in a sinner's ear.
2 Sinners of old thou didst receive
With comfortable words and kind;
Their sorrows cheer, their wants relieve,
Heal the diseas'd and cure the blind.
3 And art thou not the Saviour still,
In ev'ry place and age the same?
Hast thou forgot thy gracious skill,
Or lost the virtue of thy name?
4 Faith in thy changeless name I have;
The good, the kind physician thou
Art able now our souls to save,
Art willing to restore them now.
5 Though seventeen hundred years are past
Since thou didst in the flesh appear!
Thy tender mercies ever last!
And still thy healing pow'r is here.
6 Wouldst thou the body's health restore,
And not regard the sin-sick soul?
The sin-sick soul thou lov'st much more,
And surely thou shalt make it whole.
7 All my disease, my ev'ry sin,
To thee, O Jesus, I confess;
In pardon, Lord, my cure begin,
And perfect it in holiness.
8 That token of thine utmost good,
Now, Saviour, now on me bestow;
And purge my conscience with thy blood,
And wash my nature white as snow.Source: A Pocket Hymn Book: designed as a constant companion for the pious, collected from various authors (9th ed.) #HXXV