“Ho, every one that thirsteth.” Isa. 55. 1
J. Cennick 112th
1
Ho, ye despairing sinners, hear,
Ye thirsty, sin-sick souls, draw near;
Here’s water, whose all-powerful stream
Shall quench your thirst and wash you clean,
Its healing power has always wrought
Beyond the reach of human thought.
2
Bethesda’s pool is not like this,
Nor heals nor cures such leprosies;
Nor Siloam’s streams, nor Jordan’s flood,
Could to my heart seem half so good;
’Tis Jesus’ blood, that crimson sea,
That washes guilt and filth away.
3
To this dear Fountain I’d repair,
With all the wounds and pains I bear;
I’d keep my station near its side,
And wash, and drink, and there abide;
Nor from the sacred streams remove,
Till taken to their source above.
