A Collection of Hymns (1780)
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1780 |
| Passage ID | cw-hymns-1780-342 |
| Words | 400 |
| Source | https://www.ccel.org/ccel/wesley/hymn.html |
2 Now then the ceaseless shower
Of gospel blessings send,
And let the soul-converting power
Thy ministers attend.
On multitudes confer
The heart-renewing love,
And by the joy of grace prepare
For fuller joys above.
" Spare it yet another year."
I HP HE Lord of earth and sky,
A The God of ages, praise ;
1)4^ Time, Death, and
Who reigns enthroned on high,
Ancient of endless days ;
Who lengthens out our trial here.
And spares us yet another year.
2 Barren and wither' d trees,
We cumber' d long the ground ;
No fruits of holiness
On our dead souls were found ;
Yet doth he us in mercy spare
Another and another year.
3 When justice bared the sword,
To cut the fig-tree down,
The pity of our Lord
Cried, " Let it still alone ;"
The Father mild inclines his ear,
And spares us yet another year.
4 Jesus, thy speaking blood
From God obtain'd the grace,
Who therefore hath bestow'd
On us a longer space ;
Thou didst in our behalf appear,
And, lo, we see another year !
5 Then dig about our root,
Break up the fallow ground,
And let our gracious fruit
To thy great praise abound :
0 let us all thy praise declare,
And fruit unto perfection bear !
HYMN 710. c. m.
The barren Fig-tree.
1 ET me alone another year,
-" In honour of thy Son,
Who doth my Advocate appear,
Before thy gracious throne
the future State. 643
Thou hast vouchsafed a longer space,
And spared the barren tree,
Because for me my Saviour prays,
And pleads his death for me.
2 Time to repent thou dost bestow ;
But O the power impart,
And let my eyes with tears o'erflow,
And break my stubborn heart !
To-day, while it is call'd to-day,
The hindering thing remove ;
And, lo, I now begin to pray
And wrestle for thy love.
3 I now from all my sins would turn
To my atoning God ;
And look on Him I pierced, and mourn,
And feel the sprinkled blood :
Would nail my passions to the cross,
Where my Redeemer died ;
And all things count but dung and loss,
For Jesus crucified.
4 Giver of penitential pain,
Before thy cross I lie,
In grief determined to remain,
Till thou thy blood apply.
Forgiveness on my conscience seal,