For One that is Sick, Before Using the Means of Recovery

Virtue Divine, balsamic Word,
All-quickening, all-informing soul,
By whom Bethesdcts waters stirr'd,
Could make the various lazars whole;

Angel of covenanted grace,
Come, and Thy healing power infuse,
Descend in Thine own time, and bless,
And give the means their hallow'd use.

Obedient to Thy will alone,
To Thee in means I calmly fly;
My life, I know, is not my own,
To God I live, to God I die.

In heaven my heart and treasure is,
Yet while I sojourn here beneath,
I dare not wish for my release,
Or once indulge the lust of death.

Thy holy will be ever mine;
If Thou on earth detain me still,
I bow, and bless the grace Divine,
I suffer all Thy holy will.

I come, if Thou my strength restore,
To serve Thee with my strength renew'd;
Grant me but this, (I ask no more,)
To spend, and to be spent, for God.