Desponding soul, O cease thy woe;
Dry up thy tears; to Je­sus go,
In faith’s ap­point­ed way;
Let not thy un­be­liev­ing fears
Still hold thee back—thy Sav­ior hears—
From Him no long­er stay.

No works of thine can e’er im­part
A balm to heal thy wound­ed heart,
Or so­lid com­fort give;
Turn, then, to Him who free­ly gave
His pre­cious blood thy soul to save;
E’en now He bids thee live.

Helpless and lost, to Je­sus fly!
His pow­er and love are ev­er nigh
To those who seek His face;
Thy deep­est guilt on Him was laid,
He bore thy sins, thy ran­som paid;
O, haste to share His grace.