1 How lost was my condition,
Till Jesus made me whole,
There is but one Physician
Can cure a sin-sick soul.

Chorus:
There is a balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole,
There's pow'r enough in Jesus,
To cure a sin-sick soul.

2 The worst of all diseases
Is light, compared with sin;
On ev'ry part it seizes,
But rages most within. [Chorus]

3 'Tis palsy, plague, and fever,
And madness all combined,
And none but a believer,
The least relief can find. [Chorus]

4 A dying, risen Jesus
Seen by the eye of faith,
At once from danger frees us
And saves the soul from death.

5 Come then to this Physician,
His help He'll freely give,
He makes no hard condition,
'Tis only look and live. [Chorus]