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1 SINNER'S, turn, why will ye die?

God, your Maker, asks you why?

God, who did your being give, Made you with himself to live; He the fatal cause demands, Asks the work of his own hands, Why, ye thankless creatures, why

Will ye cross his love, and die?

2 Sinners, turn, why will ye die? Christ your Savior, asks you why?

He who did your souls retrieve, Died himself that ye might live. Will you let him die in vain? Crucify your Lord again? Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why Will ye slight his grace, and die ?

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3. Hearts of Stone.

1 HEARTS of stone, relent, relent,
Break, by Jesus' cross subdued;
See his body, mangled―rent,
Cover'd with a gore of blood,
Sinful soul, what hast thou done!
Murder'd God's eternal Son.

2 Yes, our sins have done the deed,

Drove the nails that fix'd him there Crown'd with thorns his sacred head, Pierced him with a soldier's spear; Made his soul a sacrifice,

For a sinful world he dies.

8 Will you let him die in vain,

Still to death pursue your Lord; Open tear his wounds again, Trample on his precious blood? No! with all my sins I'll part, Savior, take my broken heart.

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