1 All ye who seek a comfort sure
In trouble and distress,
Whatever sorrow vex the mind,
Or guilt the soul oppress,
2 Jesus, who gave himself for you
Upon the cross to die,
Opens to you his sacred heart;
O to that heart draw nigh.
3 Ye hear how kindly he invites;
Ye hear his words so blest--
'All ye that labour come to me,
And I will give you rest.'
4 O Jesus, joy of saints on high,
Thou hope of sinners here,
Attracted by those loving words
To thee I lift my prayer.
5 Wash thou my wounds in that dear blood
Which forth from thee doth flow;
New grace, new hope inspire, a new
And better heart bestow.
|First Line:||All ye who seek a comfort sure|
|Latin Title:||Quicumque certum quaeritis|
|Translator:||Edward Caswall, 1814-78|
|Topic:||The Christian Year: Lent|
|Source:||18th century Latin|
|Source:||Tochter Sion, Cologne, 1741 (adapted)|