Ho, poor distressèd, thirsty soul,

Ho, poor distressèd, thirsty soul,
The fountain is just by,
Whose waters run both full and free;
Come, drink, and never die.

O come, poor helpless thirsty soul,
The call is made to you;
That God who made you feel your thirst
Will prove his promise true.

O ye who long to feel and see
Your interest in his blood,
This thing is proved beyond a doubt,
Because you thirst for God.

There's not a sinner out of hell,
The vilest of the base,
If he is made to trust in Christ,
Who shall not see his face.