Come, Humble Sinner

Come, humble sinner, in whose breast,

A thousand thoughts revolve,

Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed,

And make this last resolve.

I'll go to Jesus, though my sin

Like mountains round me close;

I know His courts, I'll enter in,

Whatever may oppose.

Prostrate I'll lie before His throne,

And there my guilt confess,

I'll tell Him, I'm a wretch undone,

Without His sovereign grace.

I'll to the gracious King approach,

Whose scepter pardon gives;

Perhaps he command my touch,

And then the suppliant lives.

Perhaps He will admit my plea,

Perhaps will hear my prayer;

But, if I perish, I will pray,

And perish only there.

I can but perish if I go;

I am resolved to try;

But if I stay away, I know

I must forever die.

But, if I die with mercy sought,

When I the King have tried,

This were to die (delightful thought!)

As sinner never died.