Yet There is Room.

YE dying sons of men, Immerg'd in sin and woe, The gospel's voice attend, Which Jesus sent to you: Ye perishing and guilty, come, In Jesus' arms there yet is room.

No longer now delay, Nor vain excuses frame; He bids you come to-day, Though poor, and blind, and lame; All things are ready; sinner, come; For ev'ry trembling soul there's room.

Believe the heav'nly word His messengers proclaim; He is a gracious Lord, And faithful is his name; Backsliding souls, return and come, Cast off despair, there yet is room.

Compell'd by bleeding love, Ye wand'ring sheep draw near, Christ calls you from above, His charming accents hear! Let whosoever will, now come; In mercy's breast there still is room.