1 Ye scarlet colour'd sinners come;
Jesus the Lord, invites you home;
O whither can you go?
What! are your crimes of crimson hue?
His promise is for ever true,
He'll wash you white as snow.
2 Backsliding souls fill'd with your ways,
Whose weeping nights and wretched days,
In bitterness are spent!
Return to Jesus, he'll reveal
His lovely face, and sweetly heal
What you so much lament.
3 Tried souls! look up—he says 'tis I—
He loves you still, but means to try
If faith will bear the test;
The Lord has giv'n the chiefest good,
He shed for you his precious blood;
O trust him for the rest!
4 Ye tender souls draw hither too,
Ye grateful, highly favour'd few,
Who feel the debt you owe;—
Press on, the Lord hath more to give;
By faith upon him daily live,
And you shall find it so.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Ye scarlet colored sinners, come |
Title: | The Saviour's Inviation |
Meter: | P. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1792 |
Scripture: | ; ; |
Topic: | Hymns, on the Life of Immanuel, the Head of every Man |
Notes: | Author: W |