Weary Of Earth, And Laden With My Sin,
I Look At Heaven, And Long To Enter In;
But There No Evil Thing May Find A Home,
And Yet I Hear A Voice That Bids Me Come !

So Vile I Am, How Dare I Hope To Stand
In The Pure Glory Of That Holy Land ?
Before The Whiteness Of That Throne Appear ?
Yet There Are Hands Stretched Out To Draw Me Near

The While I Fain Would Tread The Heavenly Way.
Seems Evil Ever With Me Day By Day;
Yet On Mine Ears The Gracious Tidings Fall:
Repent, Confess, And Thou Art Loosed From All.

It Is The Voice Of Jesus That I Hear,
His Are The Hands Outstretched To
Draw Me Near,
And His The Blood That Can For All Atone,
And Set Me Faultless There Before The Throne.

Yea, Thou Wilt Answer For Me,
Righteous Lord ;
Thine All The Merits, Mine The Great Reward ;
Thine The Sharp Thorns, And Mine The
Golden Crown ;
Mine The Life Won, And Thine The Life Laid Down.

Naught Can I Bring Thee, Lord, For All I Owe,
Yet Let My Full Heart What It Can Bestow
Myself My Gift, Let My Devotion Prove,
Forgiven Greatly, How I Greatly Love.