COME all that are laden with vice, and with sin,
Come to your Redeemer, who bids you all in,
Come all to be eas'd of your fears, and your crimes,
He'll give you all rest, if you'll come but betimes.

Come all to your Keeper, Redeemer, and Chief,
Your King, Priest and Prophet, he'll bring you relief,
Your Doctor, your Pastor, your Rock and your Tow'r,
Your Saviour, who conquer'd the dragon of yore!

Come all unto Christ, without any restraint,
Who kindly invites each to make his complaint:
Be it great, be it small, do but show him your grief,
And ask his assistance, he'll give you relief.

He'll make you all free, and your sorrows allay,
He'll lend you his aid, and your debts he will pay,
He'll lighten your burdens, your tears he will dry,
He'll heal all your wounds, and you never shall die.

He'll peace from your Judge and your Father obtain;
By means of his Blood, he your pardon will gain;
He'll bring you in favour with God, that's above,
And, long as you live, he'll preserve you his love.

Your sins, in his Blood, he will wash all away,
His Spirit in each of your hearts he will lay,
He'll make you God's daughters and sons, of mere love,
And co-heirs with him of his kingdom above.

He'll tread down the fiend, and his efforts defeat,
He'll rifle his arms, and his conquest complete,
His strength he will blast, and his forts overthrow,
And make you subdue this inveterate foe.

Did you mortals but know, how tremendous your case,
How desperate your state, when depriv'd of God's grace,
'Till to Jesus you came (you'd not eat, nor yet rest)
To better your state, and to cheer your sad breast!

What are we by nature, and kind - e'en the best -
But the children of wrath, if by Jesus not blest,
But servants of sin, and the slaves of the fiend,
And the victims of hell, and of death without end?

All, alas! by their sins are defil'd, every soul!
Like - we're black and like hogs we are foul,
To Christ we must hasten, to alter our grain,
And scour all our filth, e'er we whiteness can gain.

With our Maker, old Adam at odds did us set,
Entirely unable to pay our vast debt;
E'er we can be friends, we to Christ must repair,
Who, through grace and adoption will make each his heir.

The Foe in his net ev'ry mortal has caught,
Decoy'd by the fruit, thro' our Grandmother's fault;
The snare can't be broke, nor releas'd can we be,
'Till Christ by his might and his grace sets us free.

The wolf holds our souls, like a sheep, in his jaws,
Nor can we, nor dare we, get loose from his paws:
Our Shepherd msut rescue us out of the scrape,
Or else not a soul from his fangs can escape.

The angel hangs over each house on the wing,
(So enormous our sins!) prompt destruction to bring:
With the blood of the Lamb, we our lintels must smear,
That the fiend may pass on, and our families spare.

All mortals are under the power of the Fiend,
In a dark dreary comfortless dungeon confin'd,
Chain'd down by their vices, 'till Jesus shall come,
To rescue them out of their horrible gloom.

From the pow'r of the Fiend, none can rescue a man,
Or the bondage of sin, let them do what they can,
'Till Christ by main force the Destroyer has bound,
And plac'd us all, out of the sough, on dry ground.

By nature we lie, ev'ry man that has breath,
Without knowledge of God, in the shadow of death:
Christ Jesus our hearts by his grace must illume,
E'er we can be drawn from that comfortless gloom.

All sin is so odious, so fetid, so foul,
It spoils, it defiles, it infects ev'ry soul;
Nor can its deep stains be discharg'd b' any means,
'Till Christ with his blood shall our filthiness cleanse.

Like a mountain of lead, on our necks, sin depends,
It strains all our sinews, our backs down it bends,
Our souls, thro' the centre, to hell 'twou'd depress,
Did n't we fly to Christ, for to make our loads less.

The Fiend, like a man in strong panoply bold,
Of the hearts of each mortal has taken fast hold,
Nor can the whole world thence th' invader expel,
'Till Christ comes, and hurls him down headlong to hell.

We all have been grievously stung by the foe,
Our sores, without ceasing, eternally flow,
Nor can any leach upon earth do us good,
'Till Christ comes, and cleanses our wounds with his blood.

The foe, of our ornaments, has us bereft,
And of ev'ry virtue quite naked has left;
To Jesus, our brother, then let us all go,
And He his own garments will over us throw.

We all have been dead in iniquity quite,
Nor have we the pow'r to do any thing right,
'Till Jesus, the giver of life, does arrive
To raise us from sin, and our spirits revive.

When the serpent has stung you with lust through and through,
To the brazen One come, and your malady show:
Look intent upon Christ, and you soon shall have ease,
The venom will drop, and the anguish will ease.

Show void of all dread, to your Saviour your sore;
For such a Physician was ne'er seen before!
Each wound and complaint, ev'ry sin and each wheal,
With his Heart's precious blood He will thoroughly heal.

No med'cine, no plaster, no physic, no salve,
No herbs, no emollients, you ever can have,
No nostrum, but Jesus's blood, can be found
To heal sin's wide-gaping, and anguishous wound.

Full many there are, who all tumours can cure,
With most of the ails, which poor mortals endure;
But there's no physician on earth can be found
But Jesus alone, that can cure sin's deep wound.

No angel above, though their number's so great,
Though with strength and honour so very replete,
Can save one poor soul, that from virtue has stray'd,
'Till our Saviour himself comes to give us his aid.

Tho' the saints of each sex were to join all their pow'r,
Since Adam was form'd, till the world be no more,
They cannot preserve, though so much they excel,
Without Jesu's aid, one poor mortal from Hell.

Though thou all the beasts in the forests that live,
And thy substance entire for an off'ring shou'dst give,
Whole rivers of oil, thy son, life, and blood -
Without Christ's assistance, they'd do thee no good.

Tho' the air's vast expanse, and the regions of day,
The earth, and the ocean, thou all shou'dst survey,
Thou no other person but Jesus could'st find,
Who is able to save; and what's more, well-inclin'd.

No Saviour but Jesus endeavour to have:
As God, and as man, he's Almighty to save:
There is not a name, besides his, under heaven,
Thro' which any help to our souls can be given.

No souls can be sav'd in the days, that now last,
In those yet to come, or in those that are past,
But they that are kept by Christ Jesus alone;
The reprobate crew shall be damn'd ev'ry one.

With the strong arm of faith, thy Redeemer arrest,
Lay hold of him firmly, if thou wou'dst be blest,
Nor quit the close gripe, 'till at last thou hast gain'd
The grace to be sav'd, and his favour obtain'd.

Trust not to thy works, learning, wealth, or thy race,
Thy soul can't be rescu'd, unless thou dost place
In Christ thy belief; and if e'er thou shou'dst trust
Unto any besides, thou art utterly lost.

For all Adam's sons, since the world first was fram'd
By sin are polluted, and needs must be damn'd:
To death and to hell, let them do what they can,
If by Christ not preserv'd, they must go ev'ry man.

Then all to your Saviour together repair,
To save your lost souls from the pit of despair;
Whoe'er will come freely in heaven shall dwell:
But all, who refuse, shall be tumbled to hell.

Let none be so stupid, so dull, and unwise,
As to turn from their Saviour and guide to the skies,
None from death can escape, or to heaven ascend,
Not a man can be sav'd, unless Christ be his friend.

Not Noah, Job, Abraham, not Daniel, nor Paul,
Not Mary, nor Anne, nor the best of them all,
Not the babe newly born, unless Christ be his friend,
Cou'd, by worth of his own, be preserv'd from the fiend.

Not a man (such a price our redemption did cost!)
Shall be sav'd, but thro' Christ : all the rest must be lost.
Nought less, for the sins of mankind can atone
Than the blood and the death of our Saviour alone.

Of angels and saints, then, assistance to crave
Is in vain: neither Pope, Mass, or Friar, can save,
Nor ought you can mention, whatever it be,
But the death of our Saviour : so sinful are we!

Nought less for the sins of mankind cou'd atone
Than their utter extinction; unless there were one
Whose death for the death of them all might suffice:
And who, but our Saviour, cou'd pay such a price?

None therefore to God satisfaction can make,
But through Jesus' death, and for Jesus's sake:
Who seeks not his aid, (let him e'er so well live)
He, for one of a thousand no answer can give.

Some think, that by merits and works of their own,
By fasting and alms they for sin can atone,
To heaven ascend, and from hell-torments flee,
Without their Redeemer: so useless is He! -

But whilst thus, in fancy, to heaven they soar,
They'll sink into hell, like the Devil of yore:
And then they shall see, that no man can ascend
To the skies of himself, without Christ for his friend.

The Lord is not bound any pity to shew;
For none is to man, nor shall ever be, due:
But all men are bound to adore him alone;
All to him are indebted, but he unto none.

No mortal by prayer and alms can appease,
Or his Maker, by fasting and penitence please;
'Till man and his Maker, thro' Christ, have agreed,
Who must hallow and bleach in his blood ev'ry deed.

Christ Jesus each sinner must justly arrange,
And to his Creator's similitude change,
His thoughts he must alter, his temper improve,
E'er he can inherit the kingdom above.

Christ, man with his Maker must bring into grace,
And with his own blood his offences efface,
With all his own virtues he must him invest,
And give him his Spirit, e'er he can be blest.

Christ must rescue our souls from the pow'r of the Fiend,
Who in a dark dungeon still keeps us confin'd,
Fast bound, hand and foot, with sin's cumbersome chain;
Or we in the Valley of Death must remain.

Christ, the fiend must disarm, that possesses each mind,
And in gyves the incroaching invader must bind;
He thence must eject him, tho' loth to depart,
And garrison keep his ownself in each heart.

Christ must make us the sons of his heavenly Sire
(By adoption and grace, we that right may acquire)
And make us the heirs of the Godhead above,
E'er we, howe'er good, can to Eden remove.

Christ from each disaster poor mortals must draw,
From the toils of the Fiend, and Death's merciless jaw,
And make us partake of his favour and grace,
E'er we in the kingdom of God can have place.

No mortal to heaven can possibly soar
By his own conduct, his merits, or pow'r;
Nor can He from Death and the Devil e'er run,
Without Christ's assistance, or God's vengeance shun.

How can one God's anger and sentence eschew,
The curse by the law, to iniquity due,
Death's keen pointed sting, and the pow'r of the fiend,
By worth of his own - unless Christ be his friend?

We all must repent, with a heart most sincere,
Believe with true faith, in our Saviour so dear,
By the pow'r of his spirit, our lives we must mend,
And be totally chang'd, e'er the skies we ascend.

Then all to your Saviour together repair
With tears, a true faith, and a penitent air:
Whoe'er will come freely in heaven shall dwell,
But they that refuse shall be cast into hell.