A third heartfelt sigh from Kingo

O sweet Jesus, soul’s physician

See and weigh the dire condition

Of my soul’s wounds so profound!

Of my sorely troubled mind!

Of the floods that my eyes blind

Rising from my heart’s own ground!

But if all my wounds and sighs

Fail your heart to open prise,

Then, O heart of Jesus, view

Your own wounds and deep-gashed side,

And death’s savage streams so wide,

Where such pain and woe you knew!

Solace then you’ll bring my soul,

Speak these words that me console:

I’ll restore what sin’s debased!

No more shall you feel pain’s dart

In your sorely wounded heart

Once I wound on wound have placed!