Wesley Corpus

Page 18 7Manuscript versions appear in MS Preachers, 8-10; MS Preachers Extraordinary, 15-17; and MS Miscellaneous Hymns, 123-25. 8"Our church" reads "God's house" in MS Preachers Extraordinary. Hymn V.7 Jesu, thy waiting servants see Assembled here with one accord, Ready to be sent forth by thee, To preach, when thou shalt give, the word: Now, Lord, our work, our province shew, For lo! We come, thy will to do. O what a scene attracts our eyes! What multitudes of lifeless souls! An open vale before us lies, A place of graves, a place of skulls, The desolate house of England's sons, A church a charnel of dry bones! The slaves of pride, ambition, lust, Our broken pale, alas, receives! The world into the temple thrust, And make our church8 a den of thieves, Her grief, her burthen, and her shame, Yet all assume the church's name. Her desolate state too well we know, But neither hate her, nor despise: Our bosoms bleed, our tears o'erflow; We view her, Saviour, with thine eyes, (O might she know in this her day!) And still we weep, and still we pray. We pray that these dry bones may live: We see the answer of our prayer! Thou dost a thousand tokens give, That England's church is still thy care, Ten thousand witnesses appear, Ten thousand proofs, that God is here! Page 19 9Manuscript versions appear in MS Preachers, 10-12; MS Preachers Extraordinary, 17-19. MS Miscellaneous Hymns, 125-27. Here then, O God, vouchsafe to dwell, And mercy on our Sion shew; Her inbred enemies expel, Avenge her of her hellish foe, Cause on her wastes thy face to shine, And comfort her with light divine. O light of life, thy Spirit shed, In all his chearing, quick'ning power: Thy word that rais'd us from the dead, Can raise ten thousand, thousand more, Can bring them up from nature's grave, And the whole house of Israel save. Hymn VI.9 Great guardian of Britannia's land, To thee we here present our blood, Set forth the last, a desperate band Devoted for our country's good, Our brethren dear, our flesh and bone, We live, and die, for them alone. Our brethren; tho' they still disclaim, And us despitefully intreat, With scornful rage cast out our name, Trample as dirt beneath their feet, Out of their synagogues expel, And doom us to the hottest hell.