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Verse 1

Come, says Jesus’ sacred voice,
Come, and make my paths your choice;
I will guide you to your home;
Weary pilgrim! hither come.

Verse 2

Thou, who, houseless, sole, forlorn,
Long hast borne the proud world’s scorn,
Long hast roamed this barren waste,
Weary pilgrim! hither haste.

Verse 3

Ye, who, tossed on beds of pain,
Seek for ease, but seek in vain!
Ye, by fiercer anguish torn,
In remorse for guilt who mourn!--

Verse 4

Hither come, for here is found
Balm that flows for every wound,
Peace that ever shall endure,
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.

Verse 1

Behold the throne of grace!
The promise calls me near;
There Jesus shows a smiling face,
And waits to answer prayer.

Verse 2

That rich atoning blood,
Which sprinkled round I see,
Provides, for those who come to God,
An all-prevailing plea.

Verse 3

My soul! ask what thou wilt;
Thou canst not be too bold;
Since his own blood for thee he spilt,
What else can he withhold?

Verse 4

Thine, image, Lord! bestow,
Thy presence and thy love;
I ask to serve thee here below,
And reign with thee above.

Verse 5

Teach me to live by faith;
Conform my will to thine;
Let me victorious be in death,
And then in glory shine.