Beside the gospel pool <br />Appointed for the poor; <br />From year to year, my helpless soul <br />Has waited for a cure. <br /> <br />How often have I seen <br />The healing waters move; <br />And others, round me, stepping in <br />Their efficacy prove. <br /> <br />But my complaints remain, <br />I feel the very same; <br />As full of guilt, and fear, and pain. <br />As when at first I came. <br /> <br />O would the Lord appear <br />My malady to heal; <br />He knows how long I've languished here; <br />And what distress I feel. <br /> <br />How often have I thought <br />Why should I longer lie? <br />Surely the mercy I have sought <br />Is not for such as I. <br /> <br />But whither can I go? <br />There is no other pool <br />Where streams of sovereign virtue flow <br />To make a sinner whole. <br /> <br />Here then, from day to day, <br />I'll wait, and hope, and try; <br />Can Jesus hear a sinner pray, <br />Yet suffer him to die? <br /> <br />No: he is full of grace; <br />He never will permit <br />A soul, that fain would see his face, <br />To perish at his feet.<br /><br />John Newton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bitter-waters/
