Come to the blood-stained tree;
The Victim bleeding lies;
God sets the sinner free,
Since Christ a ransom dies:
The Spirit will apply
His blood to cleanse the soul,
O burdened soul, draw nigh,
For none can come in vain—
Come, come, come.
Dark though thy guilt appear,
And deep its crimson dye,
There's boundless mercy here—
Do not from mercy fly:
Oh, do not doubt His Word,
There's pardon full and free,
For Justice smote the Lord,
And sheaths her sword for thee—
Come, come, come.
Look not within for peace,
Within there's naught to cheer;
Look up, and find release
From sin and self and fear;
If gloom thy soul enshroud,
If tears faith's eye bedim,
If doubts around thee crowd,
Come, tell them all to Him.
Come, come, come.