Ye wretched, hungry, starving poor,

Behold a royal feast,

Where mercy spreads her bounteous store

For every humble guest.

2 See, Jesus stands with open arms;

He calls, he bids you come;

Guilt holds you back, and fear alarms,

But see, there yet is room,

3 Room in the Saviour’s bleeding heart;

There love and pity meet:

Nor will he bid the soul depart

That trembles at his feet.

4 O come, and with his children taste

The blessings of his love,

While hope attends the sweet repast

Of nobler joys above.

5 There, with united heart and voice,

Before th’ eternal throne,

Ten thousand thousand souls rejoice

In ecstasies unknown.

6 And yet ten thousand thousand more

Are welcome still to come;

Ye longing souls, the grace adore;

Approach—there yet is room.