Come, weary, anxious, laden soul,
To Jesus come, and be made whole;
On Him your heavy burden roll—
Come, anxious sinner, come!
Behold the cross on which He died;
Behold His wounded, bleeding side:
Come, in His precious love confide—
Come, anxious sinner, come!
True joy the world can ne’er afford,
‘Tis found alone in Christ the Lord,
In Him for wretched sinners stored—
Come, anxious sinner, come!
God loves to hear the contrite cry,
He loves to see the tearful eye,
To read the spirit’s deep-felt sigh—
Come, anxious sinner, come!
Oh, if to Jesus you repair,
You’ll find eternal comfort there,
And soon shall heavenly glory share—
Come, anxious sinner, come!