Depth of mercy! Can there be

Mercy still reserved for me?

Can my God His wrath forbear;

Me, the chief of sinners, spare?

I have long withstood His grace,

Long provoked Him to His face,

Would not hearken to His calls,

Grieved Him by a thousand falls.

I my Master have denied,

I afresh have crucified,

Oft profaned His hallow’d name,

Put Him to an open shame.

I have spilt His precious blood,

Trampled on the Son of God,

Fill’d with pangs unspeakable,

I—and yet am not in hell.

Lo! I cumber still the ground!

Lo! an Advocate is found,

“Hasten not to cut him down,

Let this barren soul alone.”

Jesus speaks, and pleads His blood;

He disarms the wrath of God;

Now my Father’s bowels move,

Justice lingers into love.

Kindled His relentings are;

Me He now delights to spare;

Cries, “How shall I give thee up?”

Lets the lifted thunder drop.

Whence to me this waste of love?

Ask my Advocate above;

See the cause in Jesu’s face,

Now before the throne of grace.

There for me the Saviour stands,

Shows His wounds, and spreads His hands!

God is love: I know, I feel;

Jesus weeps! but loves me still!

Jesus! answer from above,

Is not all Thy nature love?

Wilt Thou not the wrong forget,

Suffer me to kiss Thy feet?

If I rightly read Thy heart,

If Thou all compassion art,

Bow Thine ear, in mercy bow,

Pardon, and accept me now.

Pity from Thine eye let fall;

By a look my soul recall;

Now the stone to flesh convert,

Cast a look, and break my heart.

Now incline me to repent,

Let me now my fall lament;

Now my foul revolt deplore,

Weep, believe, and sin no more!