|Stanza||Poetry Source by First Line|
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.
Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched,, Stanza 1
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 sinners, poor and wretched,, Stanza 3
Agonizing in the garden,
Lo! your Master prostrate lies;
On the bloody tree behold Him,
Hear Him cry before He dies;
"It is finished! It is finished!"
Sinners will this not suffice?
Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched,, Stanza 5
Lo! th'incarnate God ascended,
Pleads the merit of His blood;
Venture to Him, venture wholly,
Let no other trust intrude.
None but Jesus, none but Jesus,
Can do helpless sinners good.
Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched,, Stanza 6