Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore,
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, love and power;
He is able, He is able,
He is willing, doubt no more.
Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
All the fitness He requireth
Is to feel your need of Him;
This He gives you, this He gives you,
'Tis the Spirit's rising beam.
Come, ye weary, heavy-laden,
Lost and ruined by the fall;
If you tarry till you're better,
You will never come at all.
Not the righteous, not the righteous—
Sinners Jesus came to call.
Agonizing in the garden,
Lo! the Saviour prostrate lies;
On the bloody tree behold Him,
Hear Him cry before He dies,
"It is finished!" "It is finished!"
Sinner, will not this suffice?
Lo! the Incarnate God ascended,
Pleads the merits of His blood;
Venture on Him, venture freely,
Let no other trust intrude:
None but Jesus, none but Jesus,
Can do helpless sinners good.