Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan

Hath taught each scene the notes of woe;

Cease thy complaint, suppress thy groan,

And let thy tears forget to flow:

Behold, the precious balm is found

To lull thy pain, to heal thy wound.

2 Come, freely come, by sin oppressed;

On Jesus cast thy weighty load;

In him thy refuge find, thy rest,

Safe in the mercy of thy God:

Thy God’s thy Saviour—glorious word!

O, hear, believe, and bless the Lord!