Jesu, 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;
Fallen, till in me thine image shine,
And cursed I am, till thou art mine.

Awake, the woman's conquering Seed,
Awake and bruise the serpent's head;
Tread down thy foes, with power control
The beast and devil in my soul.

The mansion for thyself prepare,
Dispose my heart by entering 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.

What shall I say thy grace to move?
Lord, I am sin, but thou art love:
I give up every plea beside,
"Lord, I am damned, but thou hast died."