Wesley Corpus

Hymns and Sacred Poems (1747)

AuthorCharles Wesley
Typehymn-collection
Year1747
Passage IDcw-duke-hymns-and-sacred-poems-1747-021
Words368
Sourcehttps://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/...
Reign of God Universal Redemption Repentance
Page 46 38Source: Johann Scheffler. First appeared in HSP (1739), 159-61. Didst thou for this forsake thy throne? Where are thy ancient mercies gone? Why should my pain, my guilt survive, And sin be dead, yet sorrow live? Yet sin is dead; and yet abide Thy promises; they speak, they chide: They in my bosom pour my tears, And my complaints present as theirs. Hear, Jesu! Hear my broken heart! Broken so long, that ev'ry part Hath got a tongue that ne'er shall cease, Till thou pronounce, "Depart in peace." My love, my Saviour, hear my cry; By these thy feet at which I lie! Pluck out thy dart! Regard my sighs; Now heal my soul, or now it dies. God's Love to Mankind.38 O God, of good th' unfathom'd sea, Who would not give his heart to thee? Who would not love thee with his might? O Jesu, lover of mankind, Who would not his whole soul and mind With all his strength to thee unite? Thou shin'st with everlasting rays; Before th' unsufferable blaze Page 47 Angels with both wings veil their eyes: Yet free as air thy bounty streams On all thy works, thy mercy's beams, Diffusive as thy sun's, arise. Astonish'd at thy frowning brow, Earth, hell and heav'n's strong pillars bow, Terrible majesty is thine! Who then can that vast love express Which bows thee down to me, who less Than nothing am, till thou art mine? High-thron'd on heav'n's eternal hill, In number, weight, and measure still Thou sweetly order'st all that is: And yet thou deign'st to come to me, And guide my steps, that I with thee Enthron'd, may reign in endless bliss. Fountain of good, all blessing flows From thee; no want thy fulness knows: What but thyself canst thou desire? Yes; self-sufficient as thou art, Thou dost desire my worthless heart, This, only this thou dost require. Primeval beauty! In thy sight The first-born, fairest sons of light See all their brightest glories fade: What then to me thy eyes could turn, In sin conceiv'd, of woman born, A worm, a leaf, a blast, a shade? Hell's armies tremble at thy nod, And trembling own th' Almighty God
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