1 Poor, wildered, weeping heart,
What can relieve thee?
Come, sinful as thou art,
Christ will receive thee:
Come, though with woes opprest,
Soft is thy Saviour's breast,
There mayst thou sweetly rest,
There naught can grieve thee.
2 Come, trembling, timid soul,
Why this delaying?
Thunders that o'er thee roll,
Fall on thee straying:
Turn from destruction's ways,
Turn to the throne of grace,
There seek thy Father's face,
Weeping and praying.
3 Hence, guilty fear and doubt,
Leave me for ever:
Lord, wilt thou cast me out?
Never, oh, never!
From unbelief of mind,
From thoughts to sin inclined,
From flesh and hell combined,
Thou wilt deliver.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #1026
First Line: | Poor, wildered, weeping heart |
Copyright: | Public Domain |