Pity, Lord! this child of clay,

Who can only weep and pray—

Only on thy love depend:

Thou who art the sinner’s Friend;

Thou the sinner’s only plea—

Jesus, Saviour, pity me!

2 From thy flock, a straying Lamb,

Tender Shepherd, though I am;

Now, upon the mountain cold,

Lost, I long to gain the fold,

And within thine arms to be:

Jesus, Saviour, pity me!

3 O, where stillest streams are poured,

In green pastures lead me, Lord!

Bring me back, where angels sound

Joy to the poor wanderer found:

Evermore my Shepherd be:

Jesus, Saviour, pity me!