Alas! my LORD is going,

Oh my woe!

It will be mine undoing;

If He go,

I'll run and overtake Him;

If He stay,

I'll cry aloud, and make Him

Look this way.

O stay, my LORD, my Love, 'tis I;

Comfort me quickly, or I die.

'Cheer up thy drooping spirits;

I am here.

Mine all-sufficient merits

Shall appear

Before the throne of glory

In thy stead:

I'll put into thy story

What I did.

Lift up thine eyes, sad soul, and see

Thy Saviour here. Lo, I am He.'

Alas! shall I present

My sinfulness

To Thee? Thou wilt resent

The loathsomeness.

'Be not afraid, I'll take

Thy sins on Me,

And all My favour make

To shine on thee.'

LORD, what Thou'lt have me, Thou must make me.

'As I have made thee now, I take thee.'