Lamb of God, who bear’st away
All the sins of all man­kind,
Bow a na­tion to Thy sway
While we may ac­cept­ance find;
Let us thank­ful­ly em­brace
The last of­fers of Thy grace.

Thou Thy mes­sen­gers hast sent
Joyful tid­ings to pro­claim,
Willing we should all re­pent,
Know sal­va­tion in Thy name,
Feel our sins by grace for­giv­en,
Find in Thee the way to Heav’n.

Jesu, roll away the stone,
Good Phy­si­cian, show Thine art;
Make Thine heal­ing vir­tue known,
Break the un­be­liev­ing heart,
Soften the ob­dur­ate crowd,
Melt the re­bels by Thy blood.

Let Thy dy­ing love con­strain
Those that dis­re­gard Thy frown;
Sink the mount­ain to a plain,
Bring the pride of sin­ners down;
By Thy bloody cross sub­due,
Tell them, I have died for you!

Or if yet they will not turn
In their ac­cept­able day,
Will not look on Thee and mourn,
Will not cast their sins away,
Them at last by judg­ments shake,
By Thy thun­der’s voice awake.

Force our hard­ened souls to fear,
Visit with af­flict­ion’s rod,
Let us have our chast­en­ing here,
Fall in­to the hands of God;
Scourge, but make not a full end,
Punish us, but, Lord, amend.

Let th’ef­fect of Ja­cob’s pain
Be to purge his sin away,
Let the stock take root again,
Flourish in a Gos­pel day,
Forth in gra­cious blos­soms shoot,
Fill the earth with gold­en fruit.

If the ruin be de­creed,
Turn it to Thy peo­ple’s good,
Still pre­serve the ho­ly seed,
Arm us with Thy sprin­kled blood,
Till the ut­most grace we prove,
Perfect in all-pa­tient love.