No Rod of Vengeance Jesus Takes

No rod of ven­geance Je­sus takes

Like that which Mos­es bore;

His peace­ful scep­ter shows He came

To save and to re­store.

Laden with woes the sons of men

To this Phy­si­cian fly:

He lends an ear to their com­plaints

And looks with pi­ty­ing eye.

The pow­er­ful word He speaks

and lo!

The eyes long closed in night

Lift up their lids

with sweet sur­prise

To hail the joy­ous light.

New life the wi­thered crip­ple feels

Diffused through ev­ery part:

His couch and crutch he now for­gets

And leaps like any hart.

A word the deaf re­stores; the dumb

With ease their tongues em­ploy;

Amazed

and pleased at their own voice

They sing and shout for joy.

Behold at once the le­pers cleansed

Touched by the Sav­ior’s hand:

Palsy

and fev­er

and each plague

Depart at His command.

The winds and waves

midst all their rage

His pow­er­ful voice ob­ey:

Devils His aw­ful pre­sence flee

Nor dare they long­er stay.

Repeat my soul

these won­drous acts

And all His hon­ors spread:

Tell how His voice un­barred the tomb

And waked the si­lent dead.

Jesus

my Sav­ior and my Lord

How bright Thy glo­ries shine!

Thy works all praise ex­ceed

and speak

Thy char­ac­ter di­vine.