Quicumque certum quaeritis

All ye who seek a certain cure
In trouble and distress,
Whatever sorrow vex the mind,
Or guilt the soul oppress:

Jesus, who gave Himself for you
Upon the Cross to die,
Opens to you his sacred Heart,—
Oh, to that Heart draw nigh!

Ye hear how kindly He invites;
Ye hear his words so blest;—
“All ye that labour, Come, to Me,
And I will give you rest.”

What meeker than the Saviour’s Heart?—
As on the Cross He lay.
It did his murderers forgive,
And for their pardon pray.

O Heart! thou joy of Saints on high!
Thou Hope of sinners here!
Attracted by those loving words,
To Thee I lift my prayer.

Wash Thou my wounds in that dear Blood
Which forth from Thee doth flow;
New grace, new hope inspire; a new
And better heart bestow.