Wesley Corpus

3. A stranger to thy grace, Long have I labour'd, Lord, To 'stablish my own righteousness, And been what I abhorr'd. 4 Foe to the Popish boast, No merit was in me ! Yet in my works I put my trust, And not alone in thee. 5 For works that I had wrought I look'd to be forgiven, And by my virtuous tempers thought At last to purchase heaven. 6 Or if I needed still The help of grace divine, Thy merits should come in to fill The small defects of mine. 7 Alas! I knew not then, Thou only didst atone For all the sinful sons of men, And purge our guilt alone; 0 Didst shed thy blood to pay The all-sufficient price, And take the world's offence away By thy great sacrifice. 9 But O, my dying God, By thee convinced at last, My soul on that atoning blood, On that alone, I cast ! 10 I dare no longcr trust On aught I do, or feel, I}ut own, while humbled in the dust, My whole desert is hell. 11 My works of righteousness, I cast them all away : Me, Lord, thou frankly must release, For I have nought to pay. 12 Not one good word or thought I to thy merits join ; Dut gladly take the gift, unbought, Of righteousness divine. 13 My faith is all in thee, My only hope thou art; The pardon thou hast bought for me, Engrave it on my heart. 14 The blood by faith applied, O let it now take place; And speak me freely justified, And fully saved by grace. l For G 1 v E me, O thou jealous God, A wretch who on thy laws have trod, And robb'd thee of thy right; A sinner to myself unknown, 'Gainst thee I have transgress'd, and done This evil in thy sight. 2 My body I disdain'd to incline, Or worship at an idol's shrine, With gross idolatry; But O ! my soul hath baser proved, Honour'd, and fear'd, and served and loved The creature more than thee. 3 IAet the blind sons of Rome bow down To images of wood and stone; But I, with subtler art, Safe from the letter of thy word, My idols secretly adored, Set up within my heart. 4 But O!