1 Come, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He himself invites thee near,
Bids thee ask him, waits to hear,
Bids thee ask him, waits to hear.

2 Lord! I come to thee for rest;
Take possession of my breast;
There thy blood-bought right maintain,
And without a rival reign,
And without a rival reign.

3 While I am a pilgrim here.
Let thy love my spirit cheer;
As my guide, my guard, my friend,
Lead me to my journey’s end.

5 Show me what I have to do;
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die thy people's death.