Beside the Gospel Pool

The pool of Bethesda by John Newton


 * Beside the Gospel pool
 * Appointed for the poor;
 * From year to year, my helpless soul
 * Has waited for a cure.


 * How often have I seen
 * The healing waters move;
 * And others, round me, stepping in
 * Their efficacy prove.


 * But my complaints remain,
 * I feel the very same;
 * As full of guilt, and fear, and pain.
 * As when at first I came.


 * O would the Lord appear
 * My malady to heal;
 * He knows how long I’ve languished here;
 * And what distress I feel.


 * How often have I thought
 * Why should I longer lie?
 * Surely the mercy I have sought
 * Is not for such as I.


 * But whither can I go?
 * There is no other pool
 * Where streams of sovereign virtue flow
 * To make a sinner whole.


 * Here then, from day to day,
 * I’ll wait, and hope, and try;
 * Can Jesus hear a sinner pray,
 * Yet suffer him to die?


 * No: He is full of grace;
 * He never will permit
 * A soul, that fain would see His face,
 * To perish at His feet.