Physician of my sin-sick soul, <br />To thee I bring my case; <br />My raging malady control, <br />And heal me by thy grace. <br /> <br />Pity the anguish I endure, <br />See how I mourn and pine; <br />For never can I hope a cure <br />From any hand but thine. <br /> <br />I would disclose my whole complaint, <br />But where shall I begin? <br />No words of mine can fully paint <br />That worst distemper, sin. <br /> <br />It lies not in a single part, <br />But through my frame is spread; <br />A burning fever in my heart, <br />A palsy in my head. <br /> <br />It makes me deaf, and dumb, and blind, <br />And impotent and lame; <br />And overclouds, and fills my mind, <br />With folly, fear, and shame. <br /> <br />A thousand evil thoughts intrude <br />Tumultuous in my breast; <br />Which indispose me for my food, <br />And rob me of my rest. <br /> <br />Lord I am sick, regard my cry, <br />And set my spirit free; <br />Say, canst thou let a sinner die, <br />Who longs to live to thee?<br /><br />John Newton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-sick-soul/
