Come, humble sinner, in whose breast

A thousand thoughts revolve;

Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed,

And make this last resolve:

2 I’ll go to Jesus, though my sin

Has like a mountain rose;

His kingdom now I’ll enter in,

Whatever may oppose.

3 Humbly I’ll bow at his command,

And there my guilt confess;

I’ll own I am a wretch undone,

Without his sovereign grace.

4 Surely he will accept my plea,

For he has bid me come;

Forthwith I’ll rise, and to him flee,

For yet, he says, there’s room.

5 I can not perish if I go;

I am resolved to try:

For if I stay away, I know

I must for ever die.