Jesus, thy blessings are not few,

Nor is thy gospel weak;

Thy grace can melt the stubborn Jew,

And bow th' aspiring Greek.

Wide as the reach of Satan's rage

Doth thy salvation flow;

'Tis not confined to sex or age,

The lofty or the low.

While grace is offered to the prince,

The poor may take their share;

No mortal has a just pretence

To perish in despair

Be wise, ye men of strength and wit,

Nor boast your native powers;

But to his sovereign grace submit,

And glory shall be yours.

Come, all ye vilest sinners, come,

He'll form your souls anew;

His gospel and his heart have room

For rebels such as you.

His doctrine is almighty love;

There's virtue in his name

To turn the raven to a dove,

The lion to a lamb.