Ah! woe is me, con­strained to dwell,
Among the sons of night,
Poor sin­ners drop­ping into hell
Who hate the Gos­pel light.
Wild as the un­tamed Ar­abs’ race
Who from their Sav­ior fly,
And tram­ple on His par­don­ing grace,
And all His threats de­fy.

Yet here al­as! in pain I live,
Where Sa­tan keeps His seat,
And day by day for those I grieve,
Who will to sin sub­mit.
With gush­ing eyes their deeds I see,
Shut up in So­dom I,
And ask with Him who ran­somed me,
Why will ye sin and die?

Jesus, Re­deem­er of man­kind,
Display Thy sav­ing pow­er,
Thy mer­cy let these out­casts find,
And know their gra­cious hour.
Ah! give them, Lord, a long­er space,
Nor sud­den­ly con­sume,
But let them take the prof­fered grace,
And flee the wrath to come.

O wouldst Thou cast a pi­ty­ing look
(All good­ness as Thou art)
Like that which faith­less Pe­ter’s broke,
Or my ob­dur­ate heart.
Who Thee be­neath their feet have trod,
And cru­ci­fied afresh,
Touch with Thine all vic­to­ri­ous blood,
And turn the stone to flesh.

Open their eyes, and ears to see
Thy cross, to hear Thy cries:
Sinner, thy Sav­ior weeps for thee,
For thee He weeps, and dies.
All the day long He meek­ly stands
His re­bels to re­ceive,
And shows His wounds and spreads His hands,
And bids you turn and live.

Turn, and your sins of deep­est dye
He will with blood ef­face,
Ev’n now He waits His blood t’apply;
Be saved, be saved by grace.
Be saved from hell, from sin and fear:
He speaks you now for­giv­en,
Walk be­fore God, be per­fect here,
And then come up to Hea­ven.