Around Bethesda’s healing wave,

Waiting to hear the rustling wind

Which spoke the angel nigh, who gave

Its virtue to that holy spring,

With patience and with hope endued,

Were seen the gathered multitude.

2 Bethesda’s pool has lost its power!

No angel, by his glad descent

Dispenses that diviner dower

Which with its healing waters went;

But he, whose word surpassed its wave,

Is still omnipotent to save.

3 Saviour! thy love is still the same

As when that healing word was spoke;

Still in thine all-redeeming name

Dwells power to burst the strongest yoke!

O, be that power, that love, displayed,

Help those whom thou alone canst aid.