Come, let me love: or is my mind
Hardened to stone, or froze to ice?
I see the blessèd Fair One bend
And stoop t’embrace me from the skies!
O! ’tis a thought would melt a rock,
And make a heart of iron move,
That those sweet lips, that heav’nly look,
Should seek and wish a mortal love!
I was a traitor doomed to fire,
Bound to sustain eternal pains;
He flew on wings of strong desire,
Assumed my guilt, and took my chains.
Infinite grace! almighty charms!
Stand in amaze, ye whirling skies,
Jesus the God, with naked arms,
Hangs on a cross of love, and dies.
Did pity ever stoop so low,
Dressed in divinity and blood?
Was ever rebel courted so
In groans of an expiring God?
Again He lives, and spreads His hands,
Hands that were nailed to torturing smart;
By these dear wounds, says He; and stands
And prays to clasp me to His heart.
Sure I must love; or are my ears
Still deaf, nor will my passion move?
Then let me melt this heart to tears;
This heart shall yield to death or love.