1 Jesus, let thy pitying eye
Call back a wandering sheep;
False to thee, like Peter, I
Would fain like Peter, weep;
Let me be by grace restored;
On me be all its freeness shown;
Turn, and look upon me, Lord,
And break my heart of stone.

2 Saviour, Prince, enthroned above,
Repentance to impart,
Give me, through thy dying love,
The humble, contrite heart.
Give, what I have long implored,
A portion of thy love unknown,
Turn, and look upon me, Lord,
And break my heart of stone.

3 Look as when thy pitying eye
Was closed, that we might live;
“Father,” (at the point to die,
My Saviour gasped), “forgive!”
Surely, with that dying word,
He turns, and looks, and cries, “’Tis done.”
O my loving, bleeding Lord,
This breaks the heart of stone.