Out of my bondage, sorrow and night,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into thy freedom, gladness and light,
Jesus, I come to thee;
Out of my sickness into thy health,
Out of my want and into thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into thyself,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of my shameful failure and loss,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the glorious gain of thy cross,
Jesus, I come to thee;
Out of earth’s sorrows into thy balm,
Out of life’s storms and into thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of unrest and arrogant pride,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into thy blessed will to abide,
Jesus, I come to thee;
Out of myself to dwell in thy love,
Out of despair into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the joy and light of thy home,
Jesus, I come to thee;
Out of the depths of ruin untold,
Into the peace of thy sheltering fold,
Ever thy glorious face to behold,
Jesus, I come to thee.—William T. Sleeper