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 * 'Tis true indeed, my Lord moſt meek,

My ſore and ſickneſs I do feel: Yet thou the lame didſt truly ſeek, Who lay long at Betheſda's pool, Of many that thee never ſought, Like to the poor Samaritan; Whom thou unto thy ſold haſt brought, Ev'n as thou didſt the widow of Nain; Moſt gracious God, didſt thou not bid, All that are weary come to thee, Behold I come! even o'erload With ſin, have mercy upon me.


 * The iſſues of thy ſoul are great,

Thou art both leprous and unclean, To be with me thou art not fit, Go from me then, let me alone.


 * Let me thy garments once but touch,

My bloody iſſue ſhall be whole, It will not coſt thee very much, To ſave a poor diſtreſſed ſoul: Speak thou the word, I ſhall be whole, One look of thee ſhall do me good, Save now, good Lord, my ſilly ſoul, Bought with thine own moſt precious blood.


 * Let me alone, none of my blood,

Was ever ſhed for ſuch as thee, It was my mercy patience good, Which from damnation made thee free.


 * It is confeſt thou hadſt been juſt,

Altho' thou hadſt condemned me, But O! thy mercies ſtill do laſt, To ſave the ſoul that truſts in thee: