221. L. M. 6l. Barton.
The Pool of Bethesda.
1Around Bethesda's healing wave
Waiting to hear the rustling wing,
Which spoke the angel nigh, who gave
Its virtue to that holy spring,
With patience, and with hope endued
Were seen the gathered multitude.
2Had they who watched and waited there
Been conscious who was passing by,
With what unceasing anxious care
Would they have sought his pitying eye;
And craved with fervency of soul,
His Power Divine to make them whole!
3Bethesda'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.