Wesley Corpus

O God, regard my bitter cry, I groan to be redeem'd from sin, To thee I lift my weeping eye, Open thy84 arms, and take me in; To thee my lab'ring soul I bow, Require it, O require it now. 82Ori., "or"; corrected in errata. 83"A" changed to "my" in 2nd edn. (1745) and following. 84"Thy" changed to "thine" in 2nd edn. (1745) and following. Page 105 I know it is not now renew'd, I am not fit thy face to see, But trust, the virtue of thy blood In my last hour shall work on me: Some miracle of grace unknown, Without a miracle undone. My God, I cannot let thee go, Without an answer to my prayer: O tell me, that it shall be so, I soon shall lose in death my care, Where fiends and sins no more molest, And weary spirits are at rest. I doubt not, Lord, but there remains A rest from sin and sorrow here, Thy people here are freed from pains From troubles, doubts, and guilt and fear. But let me hence this moment fly, Save me from sin, and let me die. I only wait for this glad hour, 'Tis all my business here below, Send down into my soul the power, And let me die thy love to know, Renew me, and withdraw my breath, Give power o're sin, and instant death. Part II. Forgive me, O long-suffering God, The hurry of my peevish grief, Tho' fainting underneath my load, And stagg'ring oft thro' unbelief, Thee for my Lord I fain would own, And say, thine only will be done. Forgive me then my follies past, The fond impatience of my prayers, My rash complaints, and eager haste, My faithless doubts, and fruitless cares, Page 106 Thou know'st, till thou thy life bring in, I cannot, cannot cease from sin. The captive exile makes his moan, And hastens to be loos'd from pain, The pain thro' which I ever groan, The dread least85 I should turn again, Lest all my bread of life should fail, And I sink down unchang'd to hell. That dreadful thought comes thundring back, And falls a mountain on my head, Nor can, nor will I comfort take In hearing Satan's factors plead, I cannot hug, like them, my chain, Or rest, if sin in me remain.