Wesley Corpus

"They shall not vex it so, By bidding it take heed; You need not as a bulrush go, Still bowing down your head: Your griefs and fears reject, My other gospel own, Only believe yourself elect, And all the work is done." 'Twas thus the subtle foe Beguil'd my foolish heart, While weak in faith I did not know His false ensnaring art: I listen'd to a lie Which nature lik'd so well, Believ'd the soothing fiend that I Could never fall and fell. The tempter now withdrew, And left me free from care, His own advantage well he knew; My soul was in his snare: Secure, and lull'd in ease, Sin vex'd me now no more, My sorrows end, my trouble cease, And all my pangs are o'er. Freed from the inward cross, Of all corruption full, A prophet of smooth things I was To my own wretched soul; Unchang'd and unrenew'd, Yet still I could not fall: Daub'd with untemper'd mortar stood The tottering, whited wall. Page 10 My wound I slightly heal'd, And quieted my grief, With all the false assurance fill'd Of damning unbelief; One of the happy sect, Who scoff at mourners poor, That will not dream themselves elect, Till they have made it sure. How happier far was I, From grief and scruple free, Who could from all conviction fly To God's suppos'd decree! O what a settled peace, What comfort did I prove, And hug me in my sins, and bless His sweet electing love! What if I sinn'd sometimes In this imperfect state, It was not like the damning crimes Of a lost reprobate; Sin was not sin in me, God doth not blame his own, Doth not behold iniquity In any chosen one. What if I foully fell, I finally could not; His grace is irresistible, And back I must be brought: What if in sin I liv'd, The firm decree is past, I must be at my death receiv'd, I must be sav'd at last. Page 11 How could my folly dare Satan and sin to slight? The judgments of my God were far Above out of my sight: His wrath was not for me, And therefore I defied Mine enemies, from danger free, In self-electing pride.