Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore;
Jesus ready stands to save you
Full of pity, love and pow’r;
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! 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.