Oh! Thou whose tender mercy hears
Contrition's humble sigh;
Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears
From sorrow's weeping eye.
See, low before Thy throne of grace,
A wretched wand'rer mourn,
Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face?
Hast Thou not said return?
And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from Thy feet?
Oh! let not this great refuge fail,
This only safe retreat.