Hymns and Sacred Poems (1740)
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1740 |
| Passage ID | cw-duke-hymns-and-sacred-poems-1740-056 |
| Words | 387 |
| Source | https://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/... |
Them, only them his will decreed, Them did he chuse alone, Ordain'd in Jesu's steps to tread, And to be like his Son. Page 138 Them, the elect, consenting few, Who yield to proffer'd love, Justify'd here, he forms anew, And glorifies above. For as in Adam all have died, So all in Christ may live, May (for the world is justified) His righteousness receive. Whoe'er to God for pardon fly, In Christ may be forgiven, He speaks to all, "Why will ye die, And not accept my heaven?" No! In the death of him that dies (God by his life hath sworn) He is not pleas'd; but ever cries, "Turn, O ye sinners, turn." He would that all his truths should own, His gospel all embrace, Be justify'd by faith alone, And freely sav'd by grace. And shall I, Lord, confine thy love, As not to others free? And may not every sinner prove The grace that found out me? Page 139 Doubtless thro' one eternal now, Thou ever art the same, The universal Saviour thou, And Jesus is thy name. Ho! Every one that thirsteth, come! Chuse life; obey the word; Open your hearts to make him room, And banquet with your Lord. When God invites, shall man repel? Shall man th' exception make? "Come, freely come, WHOEVER WILL, And living water take." Thou bid'st; and would'st thou bid us chuse, When purpos'd not to save? Command us all a power to use Thy mercy never gave? Thou canst not mock the sons of men, Invite us to draw nigh, Offer thy grace to all, and then Thy grace to most deny! Horror to think that God is hate! Fury in God can dwell! God could an helpless world create, To thrust them into hell! Page 140 Doom them an endless death to die, From which they could not flee, No, Lord! Thine inmost bowels cry Against the dire decree! Believe who will that human pain Pleasing to God can prove: Let Molock feast him with the slain, Our God, we know, is love. Lord, if indeed, without a bound, Infinite love thou art, The HORRIBLE DECREE confound, Enlarge thy people's heart! Ah! Who is as thy servants blind, So to misjudge their God! Scatter the darkness of their mind, And shed thy love abroad.