O Lord, to whom for help I call

1 O Lord! to whom for help I call,
Thy miracles repeat;
With pitying eye behold me fall
A leper at thy feet.

2 Loathsome, and foul, and self abhorred,
I sink beneath my sin;
But, if thou wilt, a gracious word
Of thine, can make me clean.

3 Thou seest me deaf to thy commands,
Open O Lord! mine ear;
Bid me stretch out my withered hands,
And lift them up in prayer.

4 Silent (alas! thou knowest how long!)
My voice I cannot raise;
But O! when thou shalt loose my tongue,
The dumb shall sing thy praise.

5 Lame at the pool I still am found,
Give, and my strength employ;
Light as an hart I then shall bound,
The lame shall leap for joy.

6 Blind from my birth to guilt and thee,
And dark I am within;
The love of God I cannot see,
Nor sinfulness of sin.

7 But thou, they say, art passing by,
O let me find thee near!
Jesus, in mercy hear my cry,
Thou Son of David, hear!

8 Long have I waited in the way,
For thee, the heavenly light;
Command me to be brought, and say,
"Sinner, receive thy sight."

The Christian's duty, exhibited in a series of hymns, 1791