All those that pass by, to Je­sus draw near,
He ut­ters a cry, ye sin­ners, give ear!
From hell to re­trieve you He spreads out His hands;
And now to receive you, He gra­cious­ly stands.

If any man thirst, and hap­py would be,
The vil­est and worst may come un­to Me,
May drink of My Spi­rit, ex­cept­ed is none,
Lay claim to My mer­it, and take for his own.

Whoever re­ceives the life giv­ing Word,
In Je­sus be­lieves, his God and his Lord,
In him a pure ri­ver of life shall arise,
Shall in the be­liev­er spring up to the skies.

My God and my Lord! Thy call I ob­ey,
My soul on Thy word of pr­omise I stay,
Thy kind in­vi­ta­tion I glad­ly em­brace,
Athirst for sal­va­tion, sal­va­tion by grace.

O hast­en the hour! Send down from above
The Spi­rit of pow­er, of health, and of love,
Of fi­li­al fear, of kno­wledge and grace,
Of wis­dom and pray­er, of joy and of praise.

The Spi­rit of faith, of faith in Thy blood,
Which saves us from wrath, and brings us to God,
Removes the huge mount­ain of in­dwell­ing sin,
And op­ens a foun­tain that wash­es us clean.