Desponding soul, O cease thy woe;
Dry up thy tears; to Jesus go,
In faith’s appointed way;
Let not thy unbelieving fears
Still hold thee back—thy Savior hears—
From Him no longer stay.
No works of thine can e’er impart
A balm to heal thy wounded heart,
Or solid comfort give;
Turn, then, to Him who freely gave
His precious blood thy soul to save;
E’en now He bids thee live.
Helpless and lost, to Jesus fly!
His power and love are ever nigh
To those who seek His face;
Thy deepest guilt on Him was laid,
He bore thy sins, thy ransom paid;
O, haste to share His grace.