1 My LORD, how great's the favour
That I a sinner poor,
Can thro' thy blood's sweet savour
Approach thy mercy's door,
And find an open passage
Unto the throne of grace;
There wait the welcome message,
That bids me; GO IN PEACE?

2 LORD, I'm an helpless creature,
Full of the deepest need.
Throughout defil'd by nature
Stupid, and inly dead:
My strength is perfect weakness,
And all I have is sin;
My heart is all uncleanness,
A den of thieves within.

3 In this forlorn condition,
Who shall afford me aid?
Where shall I find compassion
But in the church's head?
JESUS, thou art all pity,
O take me to thine arms,
And exercise thy mercy,
To save me from all harms.

4 I'll never cease repeating
My numberless complaints;
But ever be intreating
The glorious King of saints,
Till I attain the image
Of him only love;
And pay my greatful homage
With all the saints above.

5 Then I, with all in glory,
Will thankfully relate
Th' amazing, pleasing story
Of JESUS' love so great;
In this blest contemplation
I ever shall be well;
And prove such consolation,
As none below can tell.