Jesus, the sinner’s friend, to Thee,
Lost and undone, for aid I flee,
Weary of earth, myself, and sin:
Open Thine arms, and take me in.
Pity and heal my sin-sick soul;
’Tis Thou alone canst make me whole;
fall'n till in me Thine image shine,
And cursed, I am, till Thou art mine.
The mansion for Thyself prepare,
dispose my heart by ent'ring there;
'tis this alone can make me clean,
'tis this alone can cast out sin.
At last I own it cannot be
That I should fit myself for Thee:
Here, then, to Thee I all resign;
Thine is the work, and only Thine.
