Wesley Corpus

Justified, But Not Sanctified Source: Hymns and Sacred Poems (1739), Part II Author: Charles Wesley (attributed) --- 1 My God (if I may call thee mine From heav’n and thee remov’d so far) Draw nigh; thy pitying ear incline, And cast not out my languid pray’r. Gently the weak thou lov’st to lead, Thou lov’st to prop the feeble knee, O break not then a bruised reed, Nor quench the smoaking flax in me. 2 Buried in sin, thy voice I hear, And burst the barriers of my tomb, In all the marks of death appear, Forth at thy call, tho’ bound, I come. Give me, O give me fully, Lord, Thy resurrection’s pow’r to know; Free me indeed; repeat48 the word, And loose my bands, and let me go. 3 Fain would I go to thee my God, Thy mercies and my wants to tell: I feel my pardon seal’d in blood; Saviour, thy love I wait to feel. 47This hymn is retitled “Another” in the 4th edn. (1743) and 5th edn. (1756); perhaps reflecting Wesley’s distinction between “initial sanctification,” which accompanies justification, and “entire sanctification.” 48“Repeat” changed to “pronounce” in 2nd edn. (1739) only. Freed from the pow’r of cancel’d sin; When shall my soul triumphant prove? Why breaks not out the fire within In flames of joy and praise and love? 4 When shall my eye affect my heart, Sweetly dissolv’d in gracious tears? Ah, Lord, the stone to flesh convert! And till thy lovely face appears, Still may I at thy footstool keep, And watch the smile of op’ning heav’n: Much would I pray, and love, and weep; I would; for I have much forgiv’n. 5 Yet O! Ten thousand lusts remain, And vex my soul absolv’d from sin, Still rebel nature strives to reign, Still am I all unclean, unclean! Assail’d by pride, allur’d by sense, On earth the creatures court my stay; False flatt’ring idols get ye hence, Created good be far away! 6 Jesu, to thee my soul aspires, Jesu, to thee I plight my vows, Keep me from earthly base desires, My God, my Saviour, and my spouse. Fountain of all-sufficient bliss, Thou art the good I seek below; Fulness of joys in thee there is, Without ’tis mis’ry all and woe. 7 Take this poor wandring, worthless heart, Its wandrings all to thee are known, May no false rival claim a part, Nor sin disseize thee of thine own. Stir up thy interposing pow’r, Save me from sin, from idols save, Snatch me from fierce temptation’s hour, And hide, O hide me in the grave! 8 I know thou wilt accept me now, I know my sins are now forgiv’n! My head to death O let me bow, Nor keep my life, to lose my heav’n. Far from this snare my soul remove, This only cup I would decline, I deprecate a creature-love, O take me, to secure me thine. 9 Or if thy wiser will ordain The trial, I would die to shun, Welcome the strife, the grief, the pain, Thy name be prais’d, thy will be done! I from thy hand the cup receive, Meekly submit to thy decree, Gladly for thee consent to live! Thou, Lord, hast liv’d, hast died for me!