O Word Of Words The Sweetest In Which

O word, of words the sweetest!
In which, by faith, I see
All promise, all fulfilment
Of God’s great love for me.
In sorrow or rejoicing,
With doubt or terror nigh,
I hear the “Come!” of Jesus,
And to His cross I fly.

Come to me,
Ye weary pilgrims, come;
Come to me,
O wand’ring sinner come.

Sometimes so far I’ve wandered,
So lost I seem to be,
That faintly, like an echo,
I hear the “Come to Me.”
“Where art Thou, O Beloved?”
Bewildered, sad, I cry;
Then follow that sweet summons,
Till at His feet I lie. [Chorus]

Oh! soul, why dost thou wander
From such a loving Friend?
Cling closer-closer to Him,
And love Him to the end.
Alas! I am so helpless,
So very full of sin,
Forever I am wandering
And coming back again. [Chorus]

Oh! each time draw me nearer,
That soon the “Come!” may be
But as a gentle whisper,
Because I’m close to Thee;
Then, over sea or mountain,
Far from or near my home,
I’ll take Thy hand and follow,
Where thou dost bid me “Come!” [Chorus]