Thine Arm, O Lord, in Days of Old

Thine arm, O Lord, in days of old Was strong to heal and save It triumphed o'er disease and death, O'er darkness and the grave To Thee they went, the blind, the dumb, The palsied and the lame, The leper with his tainted life, The sick with fever'd frame.

And lo! Thy touch brought life and health, Gave speech, and strength, and sight; And youth renewed, and frenzy calmed, Owned Thee the Lord of light. And now, O Lord, be near to bless, Almighty as of yore, In crowded street, by restless couch, As by Gennesaret's shore.

Be Thou our great Deliverer still, Thou Lord of life and death; Restore and quicken, soothe and bless, With Thine Almighty breath. To hands that work, and eyes that see, Give wisdom's heavenly lore, That whole and sick and weak and strong May praise Thee evermore.