1 Ah! woe is me, constrain'd to dwell
Among the sons of night:
Poor sinners dropping into hell,
Who hate the gospel light:
Wild as the untam'd Arab's race,
Who from their Savior fly;
And trample on his pard'ning grace,
And all his threats defy.
2 Yet here alas! in pain I live,
Where Satan keeps his seat,
And day bey day for those I grieve,
Who will to sin submit;
With gushing eyes their deeds I see,
Their punishment is nigh,
I ask with him who ransom'd me,
Why will you sin and die?
3 Jesus, Redeemer of mankind
Display thy saving pow'r;
Thy mercy let those outcasts find,
To know their gracious hour:
Ah! give them Lord a longer space;
Nor suddenly consume,
But let them take the proffer'd grace,
And flee the wrath to come.
4 Open their eyes and ears to see
Thy cross, to hear the cries,
Sinner, thy Savior weeps for thee,
For thee he weeps and dies.
All the day long he meekly stands,
His rebels to receive;
And shews his wounds, and spreads his hands,
And bids you turn and live.