1 WHEN the Saviour dwelt below,
Pity in His bosom reigned;
Sympathy He loved to show,
Nor the meanest suit disdained.
2 Round Him thronged the blind, the lame,
Deaf and dumb, diseased, possessed;
None in vain for healing came,
All the Saviour freely blessed.
3 He could make the leper whole;
Thousands at a meal He fed;
Winds and waves could He control;
By a word He raised the dead.
4 List’ning sinners round Him pressed
Whilst He taught the way to bliss;
Even enemies confessed,
“No man ever spake like this.”
5 Be Thy love to me revealed;
Be Thy grace by me possessed;
Touch me, and I shall be healed;
Source: Redemption Hymnal #143