Wesley Corpus

The Means of Grace Source: Hymns and Sacred Poems (1740), Part I Author: Charles Wesley (attributed) --- My Saviour, how shall I proclaim How pay the mighty debt I owe? Let all I have, and all I am Ceaseless to all thy glory shew. Too much to thee I cannot give, Too much I cannot do for thee: Let all thy love, and all thy grief Grav’n on my heart for ever be! The meek, the still, the lowly mind O may I learn from thee, my God: And love with softest pity join’d For those that trample on thy blood. Still let thy tears, thy groans, thy sighs O’erflow my eyes, and heave my breast, Till loose from flesh, and earth I rise, And ever in thy bosom rest. The Means of Grace.19 Long have I seem’d to serve thee, Lord, With unavailing pain; Fasted, and pray’d, and read thy word, And heard it preach’d, in vain. 19This was published first as a separate poem by Charles Wesley in April 1740-- Means of Grace (1740). Oft did I with th’ assembly join, And near thine altar drew; A form of godliness was mine, The pow’r I never knew. To please thee thus (at last I see) In vain I hoped, and strove: For what are outward things to thee, Unless they spring from love? I see the perfect law requires Truth in the inward parts, Our full consent, our whole desires, Our undivided hearts. But I of means have made my boast, Of means an idol made, The spirit in the letter lost, The substance in the shade. I rested in the outward law, Nor knew its deep design; The length and breadth I never saw, And heighth of love divine. Where am I now, or what my hope? What can my weakness do? JESU! To thee my soul looks up, ’Tis thou must make it new. Thine is the work, and thine alone-- But shall I idly stand? Shall I the written rule disown, And slight my God’s command? Wildly shall I from thine turn back, A better path to find; Thy holy ordinance forsake, And cast thy words behind? Forbid it, gracious Lord, that I Should ever learn thee so! No--let me with thy word comply, If I thy love would know. Suffice for me, that thou, my Lord, Hast bid me fast, and pray: Thy will be done, thy name ador’d; ’Tis only mine t’ obey. Thou bid’st me search the sacred leaves, And taste the hallow’d bread: The kind commands my soul receives, And longs on thee to feed. Still for thy loving kindness, Lord, I in thy temple wait, I look to find thee in thy word, Or at thy table meet. Here, in thine own appointed ways, I wait to learn thy will: Silent I stand before thy face, And hear thee say, “Be still!” “Be still--and know that I am GOD!” ’Tis all I live to know, To feel the virtue of thy blood, And spread its praise below. I wait my vigour to renew, Thine image to retrieve, The veil of outward things pass thro’, And gasp in thee to live. I work; and own the labour vain: And thus from works I cease: I strive and see my fruitless pain, Till God create my peace. Fruitless, till thou thyself impart, Must all my efforts prove: They cannot change a sinful heart, They cannot purchase love. I do the thing thy laws enjoin, And then the strife give o’er: To thee I then the whole resign: I trust in means no more.