With publicans and harlots I

With publicans and harlots I,
In these Thy Spirit's gospel days
To Thee, the sinner's Friend draw nigh,
And humbly sue for pardoning grace.

Thou seest me wretched, and distress'd,
Feeble, and faint, and blind, and poor:
Weary I come to Thee for rest,
And sick of sin, implore a cure.

My sin's incurable disease
Thou Jesus, Thou alone canst heal,
Inspire me with Thy power, and peace,
And pardon on my conscience seal.

A touch, a word, a look from Thee
Can turn my heart, and make it clean,
Purge the foul inbred leprosy,
And save me from my bosom sin.

Lord, if Thou wilt, I do believe,
Thou canst the saving grace impart,
Thou canst this instant now forgive,
And write my pardon on my heart.

My heart, which now to Thee I raise,
I know Thou canst this moment cleanse,
The deepest stains of sin deface,
And drive the evil spirit hence.

Be it according to Thy word,
Accomplish now Thy word in me,
And let my soul, to health restored,
Devote its little all to Thee.