Wesley Corpus

Thou lov'st to prop the feehle knee ; O break not then a bruised reed, Nor quench the smoking flax in me. 3 Buried in sin, thy voice 1 hear, And burst the barriers of my tomb, in all the marks of death appear, -- Forth at thy call, though bound, I come. 4 Give me, O give me, fully, Lord, Thy resurrection's power to know ; Free me indeed, repeat the word, And loose my bands, and let me go. 5 Fain would I go to thee, my God, Thy mercies and my wants to tell ; To feel my pardon seal'd in blood, Saviour, thy love I wait to feel. 6 Freed from the power of cancell'd sin, When shall my soul triumphant prove ? Why breaks not out the fire within In flames of joy, and praise, and love? 7 Jesus, to thee my soul aspires ; Jesus, to thee I plight my vows ; Keep me from earthly, base desires, My God, my Saviour, and my Spouse. 8 Fountain of all-sufficient bliss, Thou art the good I seek below ; Fulness of joy in thee there is, Without, -- 'tis misery all, and woe. 2o\J for 13 die vers Fighting. HYMN 291. l.m. 1 T^ONDLY my foolish heart essays -*- To* augment the source of perfect bliss. Love's all-sufficient sea to raise With drops of creature-happiness. 2 O Love, thy sovereign aid impart, And guard the gift thyself hast given : My portion Thou, my treasure, art, And life, and happiness, and heaven. 3 Would aught on earth my wishes share, Though dear as life the idol be; The idol from my breast I 'd tear, Resolved to seek my all in thee. 4 Whate'er I fondly counted mine, To thee, my Lord, I here restore Gladly I all for thee resign ; Give me thyself, I ask no more. HYMN 292. 7's8f6's. 1 T^O the haven of thy breast, JL O Son of Man, 1 fly! Be my refuge and my rest, For O the storm is high ! Save me from the furious blast ; A covert from the tempest be ! Hide me, Jesus, till o'erpast Tbe storm of sin I see. 2 Welcome as the water-spring To a dry, barren place, () descend on me, and bring Thy sweet refreshing grace. For Believers Fighting. 281