1 Lord, how large Thy bounties are,
Tender, gracious sinner’s friend;
What a feast dost Thou prepare,
And what invitations send?
Now fulfill Thy great design,
Who didst first the message bring;
Every heart to Thee incline,
Now compel them to come in.

2 Rushing on the downward road,
Sinners no compulsion need;
Heaven to forsake, and God,
See, they run with rapid speed.
Draw them back by love divine—
With Thy grace their spirits win;
Every heart to Thee incline;
Now compel them to come in.

3 Thus their willing souls compel—
Thus their happy minds constrain,
From the ways of death and hell,
Home to God, and grace again.
Stretch that conquering arm of Thine,
Once stretched out bleed for sin;
Every heart to Thee incline,
Now compel them to come in.