Verse 1
Still He doth to sinners turn,
Doth with mild complacence view,
Objects of your virtuous scorn
Sinners he prefers to you;
You who with self-righteous pride
Sinners haughtily entreat,
Judge whom God hath justified,
Spurn them at their Saviour’s feet.
Verse 2
At his feet that harlot see,
Weeping, and adoring there!
Feet transfixt on Calvary,
Still she wipes them with her hair,
Kisses them a thousand times,
Weeps, and washing them again,
Loaths herself for pardon’d crimes,
Crimes that caus’d his mortal pain.