O Lord of health and life,
What tongue can tell
How at Thy word were loosed
The bands of hell;
How Thy pure touch re­moved
The lep­rous stain,
And the pol­lut­ed flesh
Grew clean again?

O! wash our hearts, re­store
The con­trite soul,
Stretch forth Thy heal­ing hand,
And make us whole;
O! bend the stub­born knees
To kneel to Thee;
Speak but the word, and we
Once more are free.

Yea, Lord, we claim the pro­mise
Of Thy love,
Thy love, which can all guilt,
All pain re­move;
Nigh to our souls Thy great
Salvation bring,
Then sick­ness hath no pang,
And death no sting.

We hail this pledge in all
Thy deeds of grace;
As once dis­ease and sor­row
Fled Thy face,
So, when that face again
Unveiled we see,
Sickness and tears and death
No more shall be.

Then grant us strength to pray,
Thy king­dom come,
When we shall know Thee in
Thy Fa­ther’s home,
And at Thy great epi­pha­ny ad­ore
The co-eter­nal God­head ev­er­more.