Jesus, thy blessings are not few,

Nor is thy gospel weak;

Thy grace can melt the stubborn Jew,

And heal the dying Greek.

2 Wide as the reach of Satan’s rage

Doth thy salvation flow;

’Tis not confined to sex nor age,

The lofty nor the low.

3 While grace is offered to the prince,

The poor may take his share;

No mortal has a just pretense

To perish in despair.

4 Come, all ye wretched sinners, come,

He’ll form your souls anew;

His gospel and his heart have room

For rebels such as you.

5 His doctrine is almighty love;

There’s virtue in his name

To turn the raven to a dove,

The lion to a lamb.