Why, mourning soul, why flow these tears? Why thus indulge thy doubts and fears? Look to thy Saviour on the tree, Who bore the load of guilt for thee.

Then cease thy sorrows, banish grief, Tho' thou of sinners art the chief; The wounds that make poor sinners grieve, Are healed when they in Christ believe.

Whom Jesus wounds, He wounds to heal Oh! 'tis a mercy thus to feel; There's none can mourn while dead in sin, Thine are the marks of life within.

Be of good cheer, on Him rely, He'll pass thy great transgressions by, And guide thee safely by His hand, Till thou shalt reach fair Canaan's land.

There shalt thou sing His dying love, With all the ransomed throng above; And in exalted, joyful lays, The Father, Son, and Spirit praise.