By A Collection of Hymns

      L.M.
      1 LORD, I despair myself to heal:
      I see my sin, but cannot feel;
      I cannot, till thy Spirit blow,
      And bid the obedient waters flow.

      2 'Tis thine a heart of flesh to give,
      Thy gifts I only can receive;
      Here then to thee I all resign;
      To draw, redeem, and seal, is thine.

      3 With simple faith on thee I call,
      My light, my life, my Lord, my all:
      I wait the moving of the pool,
      I wait the word that speaks me whole.

      4 Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure,
      Make my infected nature pure;
      Peace, righteousness, and joy impart,
      And pour thyself into my heart.