1 How sad our fate by nature is,
Our sin how deep it stains!
And satan binds our captive souls
Fast in his slavish chains.
But there's a voice of sov'reign grace
Sounds from God's sacred word;
Ho! ye despairing sinners, come
And trust upon the Lord.

2 O may we hear th' Almighty call,
And run to this relief;
We would believe thy promise, Lord,
O help my unbelief!
To the blest fountain of thy blood,
Teach us, O Lord to fly;
There may me wash my spotted souls,
From crimes of deepest dye!

5 Stretch out thine arm, victorious King,
Our reigning sins subdue;
Drive the old dragon from his seat,
With all infernal crew.
Poor, guilty, weak and helpless worms,
Into thine hands we fall;
Be thou my strength and righteousness,
Our Jesus and our all!