1 Poor, weak and worthless tho' I am,
I have a rich almighty friend;
Jesus, the Savior, is his name,
He freely loves, and without end.

2 He ransom'd me from hell with blood,
And, by his power, my foes control'd:
He found me wandering far from God,
And brought me to his chosen fold.

3 He cheers my heart, my wants supplies,
And says that I shall shortly be
Enthron'd with him above the skies,
O! what a friend is Christ to me!

Pause.

4 But ah! my inmost spirit mourns,
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns;
I've been a faithless friend to him.

5 Often my gracious friend I grieve,
Neglect, distrust and disobey,
And often Satan's lies believe,
Sooner than all my friend can say.

6 [He bids me always freely come,
And promises what'er I ask:
But I am straighten'd, cold, and dumb,
And count my privilege a task.

7 Before the world that hates his cause,
My treach'rous heart has throbb'd with shame
Lot to forego the world's applause,
I hardly dare avow his name.]

8 Sure were not I most vile and base,
I could not thus my friend requite!
And were not he the God of grace,
He'd frown and spurn me from his sight.