Mercy, O Thou Son of David!

Mercy

O Thou Son of Da­vid!

Thus blind Bar­ti­me­us prayed;

Others by Thy word are sav­èd

Now to me af­ford Thine aid;

Many for his cries re­buked him

But he called the loud­er still;

Till the gra­cious Sav­ior bid him

Come

and ask Me what you will.

Money was not what he wanted

Though by beg­ging used to live;

But he asked

and Je­sus grant­ed

Alms

which none but He could give:

Lord

re­move this griev­ous blind­ness

Let my eyes be­hold the day;

Strait he saw

and won by kind­ness

Followed Je­sus in the way.

O! me­thinks I hear him prais­ing

Publishing to all around

Friends

is not my case am­az­ing?

What a Sav­ior I have found:

O! that all the blind but knew Him

And would be ad­vised by me!

Surely

would they hast­en to Him

He would cause them all to see.