1 Christ is the Friend of sinners;
Be that forgotten never;
A wounded soul,
and not a whole,
Becomes a true believer;
To see sin smarts but slightly;
To own, with lip confession,
Is easier still;
but O to feel
Cuts deep beyond expression.
2 [Trust not to joyous fancies,
Light hearts, or smooth behaviour;
Sinners can say,
and none but they,
“How precious is the Saviour!”
Then hail, ye happy mourners;
How blest your state to come is!
Ye soon will meet
with comfort sweet;
It is the Lord’s own promise.]
3 The contrite heart and broken
God will not give to ruin;
This sacrifice
he’ll not despise,
For ’tis his Spirit’s doing.
Then hail, ye happy mourners,
Who pass through tribulation;
Sin’s filth and guilt,
perceived and felt,
Make known God’s great salvation.
4 [Dry doctrine cannot save us,
Blind zeal, or false devotion;
The feeblest prayer,
if faith be there,
Exceeds all empty notion.
Then hail, ye happy mourners,
Ye will at last be winners;
By Jesus’ blood,
the righteous God
Now reconciles poor sinners.]
Source: A Selection of Hymns for Public Worship. In four parts (10th ed.) (Gadsby's Hymns) #806