Ye Sinners on Backsliding Bent

Ye sin­ners on back­slid­ing bent

God’s gra­cious call at­tend;

Shall not com­pas­sion so di­vine

Each stub­born spir­it bend?

“How shall I give mine Is­ra­el up

To ru­in and des­pair?

How pour down show­ers of flam­ing wrath

And make a So­dom there?

My bow­els strong re­lent­ings feel;

My heart is pained with­in;

I will not all My wrath ex­ert

Nor vis­it all their sin.

The mer­cy of a God re­strains

The thun­ders of His hand;

Come

seek pro­tect­ion from that pow­er

Which you can ne’er with­stand.

With trem­bling haste

O God

to Thee

Let sin­ners wing their flight;

As doves

when birds of prey pur­sue

Down on their win­dows light.

Father

we seek Thy gra­cious arm

All melt­ed at Thy voice;

O may Thy heart

that feels our woes

In our re­turn re­joice.