Come, humble sinner, in whose breast
A thousand thoughts revolve,
Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed,
And make this last resolve.
I'll go to Jesus, though my sin
Hath like a mountain rose;
I know his courts, I'll enter in,
Whatever may oppose.
|First Line:||Come, humble sinner, in whose breast|
|Title:||Come, humble sinner, in whose breast|