Wesley Corpus

O that I could repent, With all my idols part, And to thy gracious eye present An humble contrite heart! An heart with grief opprest At having griev'd my God, A troubled heart that cannot rest 'Till sprinkled with thy blood! Jesu, on me bestow The penitent desire, With true sincerity of woe, My aching breast inspire; With softning pity look, And melt my hardness down, Strike with thy love's effectual stroke, And break this heart of stone. O for thy glorious name My flinty bosom move, And let me feel my load of shame, And groan my want of love: Low in the deepest deep My humbled spirit lay, And give me there to cry, and weep My pensive life away. Absorb'd in ceaseless woe, No interval I crave, But softly all my days to go, And mourning to the grave; 'Till all my pains are past, And thou my soul require: But let me see thy face at last, And in thy arms expire. 82Ori., "Hymn LXXVIII"; in both editions. Page 144 Hymns for One Fallen from Grace. Hymn XXIX. Gracious God, what shall I do? Never will my heart prove true? Never firm or constant prove, Never keep thy pardning love? All my vows are broke again, All my purposes are vain, Useless all my watchful fears, Lost my unavailing tears! How did I thy help implore, Beg that I might sin no more, Strive in agony of prayer, Death itself to sin prefer! Yet my enemy hath found, Dealt the oft-inflicted wound, All my hopes again destroy'd, Kill'd the tender life of God. Deeper plung'd in guilt and shame, Whom, alas! Have I to blame? Can I, who to sin gave place, Charge thy insufficient grace! No, thy slighted grace I clear, Thou to help wert always near, But I ceas'd to watch and pray, Slacken'd, sunk, and fell away. Shall I then the strife give o'er, Never sue for mercy more, To my fearful doom submit, Sink content into the pit? Page 145 No, thy mercy answers, No! Mercy will not let me go, Still thy yearning bowels cry, "Wherefore wilt thou sin, and die?"