Words: , Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems, 1749.

Music: Pres­cott (Lut­kin), (1858-1931).

Jesus, Thou all redeeming Lord,
Thy blessing we implore;
Open the door to preach Thy Word,
The great, effectual door.

Gather the outcasts in, and save
From sin and Satan’s power;
And let them now acceptance have,
And know their gracious hour.

Lover of souls! Thou knowest to prize
What Thou hast bought so dear:
Come, then, and in Thy people’s eyes
With all Thy wounds appear.

The hardness of their hearts remove,
Thou Who for all hast died;
Show them the tokens of Thy love,
Thy feet, Thy hands, Thy side.

Ready Thou art the blood to apply,
And prove the record true;
And all Thy wounds to sinners cry,
“I suffered this for you!”

The fol­low­ing stan­zas are com­mon­ly omit­ted:

Thy feet were nailed to yonder tree
To trample down their sin;
Thy hands they all stretched out may see,
To take the murderers in.

Thy side an open fountain is,
Where all may freely go,
And drink the living streams of bliss,
And wash them white as snow.