7.7.7.7.7.7.
1
Wandering in the desert wide,
By the Lord Himself sustained,
Israel, full of lust and pride,
Of their gracious Lord complained;
Weary of the way He led,
Thankless for their daily bread.
2
Fiery serpents soon were sent:
Israel filled with sore distress,
Now their waywardness repent,
Now their sinful words confess:
Sick and sore they lie around,
Who can heal their deadly wound?
3
Lo! the serpent lifted high,
God a remedy doth give:
Wounded sufferers, ere you die,
To the serpent “look and live.”
Such the cure by grace devised,
E’en the faintest look sufficed.
4
Sorer sickness, my dear child,
Deep within your heart is found;
Yours a soul by sin defiled,
Yours a darker, deadlier wound.
May you feel your wound and flee
To the only remedy.
