Come, poor sinners, come away;

Come, poor sinners, come away;
In meditation sweet,
Let us go to Golgotha,
And kiss our Saviour's feet.
Let us in his wounded side
Wash till we every whit are clean;
That's the fountain opened wide
For filthiness and sin.

Zion's mourners, cease your fear;
For lo! the dying Lamb
Utterly forbids despair
To all that love his name.
Him your fellow-sufferer see;
He was in all things like to you.
Are you tempted? So was he.
Deserted? He was too.

Jesus, our Redeemer, shed
For us his vital blood,
We, through our victorious Head
Can now come near to God.
Sin and sorrow may distress;
But neither shall us quite control;
Christ has perfect holiness
For every sin-sick soul.