Is there a little sinner here,
Who mourns because of sin;
And sees with grief and shame and fear,
How wicked he has been?

Is there a little aching heart,
Which does its vileness feel,
And groans beneath that deadly smart
Which none but Christ can heal?

Is there a little soul that pants
To taste redeeming grace,
And longs to pour out all its wants
Before the Saviour’s face?

Fear not, poor little trembling thing,
With cruel scorn to meet;
To Christ your sins and sorrows bring,
And lay them at His feet.

He is a kind and gracious Lord,
Love fills His gentle breast;
“Come unto Me,” is His own word,
“And I will give you rest.”

Think how He answered praying Paul,
And sinking Peter, too;
And so, if you for mercy call,
He’ll hear and answer you.