All Ye Who Seek For Sure Relief

All ye who seek for sure relief

In trouble and distress,

Whatever sorrows vex the mind,

Or guilt the soul oppress,

Jesus, who gave Himself for you

Upon the cross to die,

Opens to you His sacred heart;

O to that heart draw nigh.

Ye hear how kindly He invites;

Ye hear His words so blest;

"All ye that labor come to me,

And I will give you rest."

O Jesus, Joy of saints on high,

Thou Hope of sinners here,

Attracted by those loving words

To Thee we lift our prayer.

Wash Thou our wounds in that dear blood

Which from Thy heart doth flow;

A new and contrite heart on all

Who cry to Thee bestow.