1 Ye dying sons of men,
Immerg'd in sin and woe,
The gospel’s voice attend,
While Jesus sends to you:
Ye perishing and guilty come,
In Jesus’ arms there yet is room.
2 No longer now delay,
Nor vain excuses frame;
He bids you come to-day,
Tho' poor, and blind, and lame:
All things are ready, sinners, come,
For every trembling soul there’s room.
3 Believe the heavenly word
His messengers proclaim;
He is a gracious Lord,
And faithful is his name:
Backsliding souls, return and come,
Cast off despair there yet is room.
4 Compell'd by bleeding love,
Ye wand'ring sheep, draw near,
Christ calls you from above,
His charming accents hear!
Let whosoever will, now come:
In mercy’s breast there still is room.
Source: A Selection of Hymns: from the best authors, intended to be an appendix to Dr. Watt's psalms and hymns. (1st Am. ed.) #CXVIII