Come, ye souls by sin af­flict­ed,
Bowed with fruit­less sor­row down;
By the brok­en law con­vict­ed,
Through the cross be­hold the crown;
Look to Je­sus;
Mercy flows through Him alone.

Take His ea­sy yoke and wear it;
Love will make obe­di­ence sweet;
Christ will give you strength to bear it,
While His wis­dom guides your feet
Safe to glo­ry,
Where His ran­somed cap­tives meet.

Blessèd are the eyes that see Him,
Blest the ears that hear His voice;
Blessèd are the souls that trust Him,
And in Him alone re­joice;
His com­mand­ments then
Become their hap­py choice.

Sweet as home to pil­grims wea­ry,
Light to new­ly op­ened eyes,
Or full springs in de­serts drea­ry,
Is the rest the cross sup­plies;
All who taste it
Shall to rest im­mor­tal rise.