Wesley Corpus

Hymns and Sacred Poems (1742)

AuthorCharles Wesley
Typehymn-collection
Year1742
Passage IDcw-duke-hymns-and-sacred-poems-1742-020
Words376
Sourcehttps://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/...
Christology Reign of God Repentance
Lead me, till my few evil years Of pilgrimage are o'er; But e'er I leave this vale of tears, O let20 me sin no more. Psalm li. 10. BCP "Make me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." O for an heart to praise my God, An heart from sin set free! An heart that always feels thy blood, So freely spilt for me! An heart resign'd, submissive, meek, My dear Redeemer's throne, Where only Christ is heard to speak, Where Jesus reigns alone. An humble, lowly, contrite heart, Believing, true, and clean, Which neither life nor death can part From him that dwells within. An heart in every thought renew'd, And full of love divine, 19"My" changed to "Mine" in 2nd edn. (1745) and following. 20"Let" changed to "bid" in 2nd edn. (1745) and following. Page 31 Perfect, and right, and pure and good, A copy, Lord, of thine. Thy tender heart is still the same, And melts at human woe: Jesu, for thee distrest I am, I want thy love to know. My heart, thou know'st can never rest, Till thou create my peace, Till of my Eden repossest, From self, and sin I cease. Fruit of thy gracious lips, on me Bestow that peace unknown, The hidden manna, and the tree Of life, and the white stone. Thy nature, dearest Lord, impart, Come quickly from above, Write thy new name upon my heart, Thy new, best name of love. A Prayer for Humility. O my heart, what must I do! Shall the self-admiring fiend Still my helplesness pursue? Shall his malice never end? Still the stubborn sin remains, Still the thorn is in my side, Still I groan to feel my chains, Sorely buffetted by pride. Vanity, the serpent-seed Poisoning all my good I find; Page 32 Stealing on with silent tread Vanity lurks close behind. As the substance by the shade, Grace I find by pride pursued; Grace is pride's occasion made, Evil ever cleaves to good. Pleas'd in borrow'd plumes to shine, Nature arrogates a share, Mixes in the work divine, Bold the Godhead's form to wear; Proudly in her beauty trusts, Heavenly charms as hers displays, Falsely, blasphemously boasts, Varnish'd, deck'd, and hid by grace.