Jesus, the Sinner's Friend, to Thee

118 Jesus, the Sinner's Friend, to Thee

1. Jesus, the sinner’s friend, to Thee,
   Lost and undone, for aid I flee,
   Weary of earth, myself, and sin:
   Open Thine arms, and take me in.

2. Pity and heal my sin sick soul;
   ’Tis Thou alone canst make me whole;
   Fallen, till in me Thine image shine,
   And lost, I am, till Thou art mine.

3. At last I own it cannot be
   That I should fit myself for Thee:
   Here, then, to Thee I all resign;
   Thine is the work, and only Thine.

4. What shall I say Thy grace to move?
   Lord, I am sin, but Thou art love;
   I give up every plea beside—
   Lord, I am lost, but Thou hast died.

5. Jesus, the sinner’s friend, to Thee,
   Lost and undone, for aid I flee,
   Weary of earth, myself, and sin:
   Open Thine arms, and take me in.
                         Charles Wesley
                         The Methodist Hymnal 1964 edition

<idle musing>
Not a very popular hymn; it only occurs in about 170 hymnals, but the variations are abundant. Here's one that is eleven verses long!

1 Jesus, the Sinner’s Friend, to thee,
   Lost and undone for Aid I flee,
   Weary of Earth, myself, and Sin,
   Open thine Arms and take me in.

2 Pity and heal my Sin-sick Soul,
   ’Tis Thou alone canst make me whole;
   Fall'n, till in me thine Image shine,
   And curst I am till thou art mine.

3 Hear, Jesus, hear my helpless Cry,
   O save a Wretch condemn'd to die:
   The Sentence in myself I feel,
   And all my Nature teems with Hell.

4 When shall Concupiscence and Pride,
   No more my tortur'd Heart divide?
   When shall this Agony be o'er,
   And the old Adam rage no more?

5 Awake, the Woman's conquering Seed,
   Awake, and bruise the Serpent's Head:
   Tread down thy Foes, with Power controul,
   The Beast and Devil in my Soul.

6 The Mansion for thyself prepare,
   Dispose my Heart by ent'ring there;
   'Tis this alone can make me clean,
   'Tis this alone can cast out Sin.

7 Long have I hop'd and vainly strove,
   To force my Hardness into Love;
   To give thee all thy Laws require,
   And labour'd in the purging Fire.

8 Frail, dark, impure I still remain,
   Nor hope to break my Nature's Chain;
   The fond self-emptying Scheme is past,
   And lo! constrain'd I yield at last.

9 At last I own it cannot be,
   That I should fit myself for thee:
   Here then to thee I all resign,
   Thine is the Work, and only thine.

10 No more to lift my Eyes I dare,
   Abandon'd to a just Despair,
   I have my Punishment in View,
   I feel a thousand Hells my Due.

11 What shall I say thy Grace to move?
   Lord I am Sin, but Thou art Love;
   I give up ev'ry Plea beside.
   Lord I am damn'd, - but thou hast died!

</idle musing>