Come, humble sinner, in whose breast,A thousand thoughts revolve,Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed,And make this last resolve.
I’ll go to Jesus, though my sinLike mountains round me close;I know His courts, I’ll enter in,Whatever may oppose.
Prostrate I’ll lie before His throne,And there my guilt confess,I’ll tell Him, I’m a wretch undone,Without His sovereign grace.
I’ll to the gracious King approach,Whose scepter pardon gives;Perhaps he command my touch,And then the suppliant lives.
Perhaps He will admit my plea,Perhaps will hear my prayer;But, if I perish, I will pray,And perish only there.
I can but perish if I go;I am resolved to try;But if I stay away, I knowI must forever die.
But, if I die with mercy sought,When I the King have tried,This were to die (delightful thought!)As sinner never died.