Weary of Earth

1 Weary of earth, and la­den with my sin,
I look at Heav’n and long to en­ter in,
but there no ev­il thing may find a home,
and yet I hear a voice that bids me "Come."

2 So vile I am, how dare I hope to stand
in the pure glo­ry of that ho­ly land;
before the bright­ness of that throne ap­pear?
Yet, there are hands stretched out to draw me near.

3 But while I long to tread the heav’n­ly way,
ev­il is ev­er with me day by day;
yet on mine ears the gra­cious tid­ings fall,
"Repent, con­fess, and be forgiven all."

4 It is the voice of Je­sus that I hear!
His are the hands stretched out, to draw me near,
and His the blood that can for all atone,
and set me fault­less there be­fore the throne.

5 ’Twas He who found me, lost and straying wild,
and made me heir of heav’n, the Fa­ther’s child;
and day by day, where­by my soul may live,
gives His grace of par­don, and will give.

6 O great Ab­solv­er! Grant my soul may wear
the low­ly garb of pe­ni­tence and pray­er,
that in the Fa­ther’s courts my glo­ri­ous dress
may be the gar­ment of Thy right­eous­ness.

7 Thy grace will an­swer for me, righ­teous Lord!
Thine all the mer­its, mine the great re­ward;
Thine the sharp thorns, and mine the gold­en crown;
mine the life won, and Thine the life laid down!

8 Naught can I bring, dear Lord, for all I owe,
but let my full heart, what it can, bestow;
like that sweet nard, let my de­vo­tion prove;
greatly for­giv­en, how I great­ly love.

Source: Our Great Redeemer's Praise #647

• MIDI file from The Cyber Hymnal #7178
  
• MIDI file from Victorious Life Hymns #193