Let Every Mortal Ear Attend

Let ev­ery mor­tal ear at­tend

And ev­ery heart re­joice;

The trum­pet of the Gos­pel sounds

With an in­vit­ing voice.

Lo! all ye hun­gry

starv­ing souls

That feed up­on the wind

And vain­ly strive with earth­ly toys

To fill an emp­ty mind.

Eternal wis­dom has pre­pared

A soul re­viv­ing feast

And bids your long­ing ap­pe­tites

The rich pro­vi­sion taste.

Ho! ye that pant for liv­ing streams

And pine away and die;

Here you may quench your rag­ing thirst

With springs that nev­er dry.

Rivers of love and mer­cy here

In rich­est ocean join;

Salvation in abun­dance flows

Like floods of milk and wine.

Ye per­ish­ing and na­ked poor

Who work with migh­ty pain

To weave a gar­ment of your own

That will not hide your sin

Come nak­ed

and ad­orn your souls

In robes pre­pared by God

Wrought by the la­bors of His Son

And dyed in His own blood.

Dear God! the trea­sures of Thy love

Are ev­er­last­ing mines

Deep as our help­less mi­se­ries are

And bound­less as our sins!

The hap­py gates of Gos­pel grace

Stand op­en night and day;

Lord

we are come to seek sup­plies

And drive our wants away.