Behold th’afflicted man,
Oppress’d with pain and grief;
Pouring his tears at Jesus’ feet,
For pity and relief.

Compassion rules his heart,
He speaks the gracious word;
The suff’rer feels his strength return,
And all his sickness cured.

To thee, dear Lord, I look,
Sick of a worse disease;
Sin is my painful malady,
And none can give me ease.

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