Just as thou art, with­out one trace
Of love, or joy, or in­ward grace,
Or meet­ness for the hea­ven­ly place,
O guil­ty sin­ner, come.

Burdened with guilt, wouldst thou be blest?
Trust not the world; it gives no rest;
Christ gives re­lief to hearts op­pressed—
O wea­ry win­ner, come.

Thy sins I bore on Cal­va­ry’s tree;
The stripes, thy due, were laid on Me;
That peace, and par­don might be free;
O wretch­ed sin­ner, come.

Come, leave thy bur­den at the cross,
Count all thy gains but emp­ty dross:
My grace re­pays all earth­ly loss;
O needy sin­ner, come.

Come, hi­ther bring thy bod­ing fears,
Thy ach­ing heart, thy mourn­ful tears;
’Tis mer­cy’s voice sa­lutes thine ears—
O trem­bling sin­ner, come.

The Spir­it and the Bride say, Come!
Rejoicing saints re-echo, Come!
Who faints, who thirsts, who will, may come:
Thy Sav­ior bids thee, come!