1 Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish,
come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel:
here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
earth has no sorrows that heav'n cannot heal.

2 Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, in mercy saying,
"Earth has no sorrows that heav'n cannot cure."

3 Here see the bread of life; see waters flowing
forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast prepared; come, ever knowing
earth has no sorrows but heav'n can remove.