Wesley Corpus

He cast his filthy rags away, The right'ousness of seventy years! Loathsome, and foul, and self-abhorr'd, Full of all sin, void of all good, His soul, at the last gasp, implor'd "One drop of that atoning blood." 11 Nor yet the peaceful answer came; His spirit to the utmost tri'd, Must suffer all its guilty shame, Condemn'd, and scourg'd, and crucifi'd, Must all his Saviour's sorrows share, And cry, as bleeding on the tree, As in the depths of self-despair "My God hath quite forsaken ME." 12 "Not so," repli'd the Father's love, And Jesus in his heart reveal'd; He felt the comfort from above, The gospel-grace, the pardon seal'd, How strange that instantaneous bliss! While to the brink of Tophet driv'n, Caught up, as from the dark abyss, He mounted to the highest heav'n. Part II. "He's come, he's come, in peace and pow'r! The agony" he cries "is past; Call'd at my life's eleventh hour, But call'd I surely am at last! I now in Christ redemption have; I feel it, through his sprinkl'd blood; And testify his will to save, And claim him for my Lord and God. "My God to me his grace hath giv'n, Hath with the sense of pardon blest; I taste anticipated heav'n, And happy in his favour rest. No evil now, but sin I fear; For God in Christ is reconcil'd: My heart is fix'd I find him here, The witness that I am his child. "What is redemption unpossess'd? Poor reasoning soul to Jesus bow;