Sinners Obey The Gracious Call
Sinners, obey the gracious call,
Unto the Lord your God return,
The dire occasion of your fall-
Your foolishness of folly mourn.
Sin only hath your ruin been;
In humble words your grief express,
Turn to the Lord: Your shameful sin,
The burden of your soul, confess.
God of all power, and truth, and grace,
All our iniquity remove,
Spare and accept a fallen race,
God of all power, and truth, and love,
Take all, take all our sins away,
Nor guilt, nor power, nor being have,
Forgive us now, Thine arm display,
Thine own for Jesus’ sake receive.
So will we render Thee the praise,
With joyful lips and hearts renewed,
Present Thee all our sinless days,
A living sacrifice to God.
So will we trust in man no more,
No more to man for succor fly,
The works of our own hands adore,
Or seek ourselves to justify.
Not by an arm of flesh, but Thine,
We look from sin to be set free;
O Love, O Righteousness divine,
The helpless all find help in Thee.
“Surely in me,” your God replies,
“The fatherless shall mercy find,
Whoe’er on Me for help relies,
Shall know the Savior of mankind.
“I (for my Son hath died to seal
Their peace, and all My wrath remove)
I will their sin-sick spirits heal,
And freely the backsliders love.
I will My sovereign art display,
To perfect health their soul restore,
And take their bent to sin away,
And lift them up to fall no more.
“In blessings will I then come down,
And water them with gracious dew,
And all My former mercies crown,
And every pardoned soul renew.
Israel shall as the lily grow,
As chaste, as beautiful, and white,
Yet striking deep his roots below,
And towering as the cedar’s height.
“His branching arms he wide shall spread,
And flourish in eternal bloom-
Fair as the olive’s verdant shade,
Fragrant as Lebanon’s perfume.
Whoe’er beneath his shadow dwell,
Shall as the putrid corn revive,
A mortal quickening virtue feel,
And sink to rise, and die to live.
“Their boughs with fruit ambrosial crowned,
As Lebanon’s thick-clustering vine,
Shall spread their odors all around,
Grateful to human taste, and Mine.
Ephraim, my pleasant child, shall say,
‘With idols what have I to do?
I cannot sin: get hence away,
Vain world! I cannot stoop to you.’
‘God, only God hath all my heart,
My vile idolatries are o’er,
I cannot now from God depart,
For, born of God, I sin no more.’
Whoe’er to this high prize aspire,
And long My utmost grace to prove,
I heard, and marked their heart’s desire,
And I will perfect them in love.
“Beneath My love’s almighty shade,
O Israel, sit, and rest secure,
On Me thy quiet soul be stayed,
Till pure as I thy God am pure.
Surely I will My people save;
Who on My faithful word depend
Their fruit to holiness shall have,
And glorious all to Heaven ascend.”