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162 To wash the filthy white as snow,
 * And make the wounded whole.

3 The dumb break forth in songs of praise,
 * The blind their sight receive,

The cripple runs in wisdom's ways,
 * The dead revive and live.

4 Restrain'd to no one case or time,
 * These waters always move;

Sinners in every age and clime
 * Their vital influence prove.

5 Yet numbers daily near them lie,
 * Who meet with no relief;

With life in view they pine and die
 * In hopeless unbelief.

6 Tis strange they should refuse to bathe.
 * And yet frequent the pool;

But none can even wish for faith,
 * While love of sin bears rule.

7 Satan their consciences has seal'd
 * And stupifies their thought;

For were they willing to be heal'd,
 * The cure would soon be wrought.

8 Do thou, dear Saviour, interpose,
 * Their stubborn wills constrain;

Or else to them the water flows
 * And grace is preached in vain.

1 by their Lord to embark, And venture without him to sea, The season tempestuous and dark, How grieved the disciples must be! But though he remain'd on the shore, He spent the night for them in pray'r; They still were as safe as before, And equally under his care.