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Isaac Watts - Hymn 153Isaac Watts - Hymn 153
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The distemper, folly, and madness of sin Sin, like a venomous disease, Infects our vital blood; The only balm is sovereign grace, And the physician, God. Our beauty and our strength are fled, And we draw near to death; But Christ the Lord recalls the dead With his almighty breath. Madness by nature reigns within, The passions burn and rage, Till God`s own Son, with skill divine, The inward fire assuage. [We lick the dust, we grasp the wind, And solid good despise; Such is the folly of the mind, Till Jesus makes us wise. We give our souls the wounds they feel, We drink the pois`nous gall, And rush with fury down to hell; But Heav`n prevents the fall.] [The man possessed among the tombs Cuts his own flesh, and cries; He foams and raves, till Jesus comes, And the foul spirit flies.]
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