1 Come, trembling sinner! in whose breast,
A thousand thoughts revolve--
Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed,
And make this last resolve,--

2 I'll go to Jesus, though my sin,
Like a mountains, round me rose;
I know His courts, I'll enter in,
Whatever may oppose.

3 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.

4 Perhaps He will admit my plea,
Perhaps will hear my prayer;
But if I perish, I will pray,
And perish only there.

5 I can but perish if I go;
I am resolved to try:
For if I stay away, I know
I must for ever die.