Come, humble sinner, in whose breast
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Come, humble sinner, in whose breastA thousand thoughts revolve,Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed,And make this last resolve:—
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I 'll go to Jesus, though my sinsLike mountains round me close;I know his courts, I 'll enter in,Whatever may oppose.
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Prostrate I 'll lie before his throne,And there my guilt confess;I 'll tell him, I 'm a wretch undoneWithout his sovereign grace.
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Perhaps he will admit my plea,Perhaps will hear my prayer;But if I perish I will pray,And perish only there.