Wesley Corpus

Lone unfrequented wilds they trod, O'er mountain-tops the wanderers ran, With milder beasts in dens abode, And shun'd the haunts of savage man. Verses XXXIX, XL. Famed for their faith all these believ'd, By justifying faith made whole: Nor yet the promis'd grace receiv'd, The Christ, the fulness in their soul. A better gift he us provides, On whom the gospel-times are come; And lo! The Holy Ghost abides In us, and makes our hearts his home. We now our elder brethren meet, Their faith, and happiness improve, And soon with them shall shine compleat In Christ, and perfected in love. Business.6 Alter'd from Herbert. Art thou idle? Canst thou play? Foolish soul, who sinn'd to day? He that loseth gold, tho' dross, Tells to all he meets his loss: What for shadows hast thou given? Peace, and joy, and love, and heaven. 6Source: George Herbert, The Temple (Cambridge: Buck Daniel, 1633), 105-106 (88); omitted from 4th edn. (1743) and following. Page 21 Art thou idle? Sits there7 now, Giddy mirth upon thy brow? If thou hast no sighs and tears, Well thou hadst no guilt, or fears, Tears for living mourners plead; Nought avails the hopeless dead. If thou still canst idle be, Foolish soul who died for thee? Who forsook his throne on high, Laid his every glory by, Drank the dregs of wrath divine? Lord was ever love like thine! Idle mirth where art thou now? Where the giddy, thoughtless brow? Hast thou sinn'd? Lament and grieve: Hath God died? Believe, and live: Mirth adieu, and laughter vain! Laughter was not made for man. Looking unto Jesus. From the German.8 Regardless now of things below, Jesus, to thee my heart aspires, Determin'd thee alone to know, Author, and end of my desires: Fill me with righteousness divine; To end, as to begin, is thine. 7Ori., "their," a misprint. 8Source: Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf, ed. Das Gesang-Buch der Gemeine in Herrn-Huth (Halle: Wäysenhaus, 1737), 14 (13, by Maria Böhmer). See Charles's adaptation in MS Family, 8-9. Page 22 What is a worthless worm to thee? What is in man thy grace to move? That still thou seekest those who flee The arms of thy pursuing love? That still thy inmost bowels cry "Why, sinner, wilt9 thou perish, why?"