Jesus, Jesus, full of all compassion, Hear Thy humble suppliant’s cry; Let me know Thy great salvation, See, I languish, faint and die. Guilty, but with heart relenting, Overwhelmed with helpless grief, Prostrate at Thy feet repining, Send, O send me quick relief. Whither should a wretch be flying, But to Him Who comfort gives? Whither, from the dread of dying, But to Him Who ever lives? While I view Thee, wounded, grieving, Breathless, on the cursèd tree, Fain, I’d feel my heart believing, That Thou sufferedst thus for me. With Thy righteousness and Spirit, I am more than angels blest; Heir with Thee, all things inherit, Peace, and joy, and endless rest. Saved! The deed shall spread new glory Through the shining realms above; Angels sing the pleasing story, All enraptured with Thy love. |