Wesley Corpus

The Resignation Source: Hymns and Sacred Poems (1740), Part I Author: Charles Wesley (attributed) --- First-born of many brethren thou! To thee, lo! All our souls we bow. To thee our hearts and hands we give: Thine may we die; thine may we live. The Resignation.37 And wilt thou yet be found? And may I still draw near? Then listen to the plaintive sound Of a poor sinner’s prayer. Jesu, thine aid afford, If still the same thou art; To thee I look, to thee, my Lord, Lift up an helpless heart. Thou seest my tortur’d breast, The strugglings of my will, The foes that interrupt my rest, The agonies I feel: The daily death I prove, Saviour, to thee is known: ’Tis worse than death, my God to love, And not my God alone. My peevish passions chide, Who only canst controul, Canst turn the stream of nature’s tide, And calm my troubled soul. 37This hymn appeared first in the 2nd edn. of HSP (1739), 37-40; it was then moved to this collection. O my offended Lord, Restore my inward peace: I know thou canst: pronounce the word, And bid the tempest cease. Abate the purging fire, And draw me to my good; Allay the fever of desire, By sprinkling me with blood. I long to see thy face, Thy Spirit I implore, The living water of thy grace, That I may thirst no more. When shall thy love constrain, And force me to thy breast? When shall my soul return again To her eternal rest? Ah! What avails my strife, My wand’ring to and fro? Thou hast the words of endless life, Ah! Whither should I go? Thy condescending grace To me did freely move: It calls me still to seek thy face, And stoops to ask my love. Lord, at thy feet I fall, I groan to be set free, I fain would now obey the call, And give up all for thee. To rescue me from woe, Thou didst with all things part, Didst lead a suffering life below, To gain my worthless heart: My worthless heart to gain, The God of all that breathe Was found in fashion as a man, And died a cursed death. And can I yet delay My little all to give, To tear my soul from earth away, For Jesus to receive? Nay, but I yield, I yield! I can hold out no more, I sink by dying love compell’d, And own thee Conqueror. Tho’ late, I all forsake, My friends, my life resign, Gracious Redeemer, take, O take And seal me ever thine. Come, and possess me whole, Nor hence again remove, Settle, and fix my wav’ring soul, With all thy weight of love. My one desire is38 this, Thy only love to know, To seek and taste no other bliss, No other good below. 38Charles Wesley changes “is” to “be” in All in All (1761).