Wesley Corpus

My Father, O my Father hear Thy weakest child's imperfect call! Now as a servant I appear, And yet thou know'st me heir of all: O make me know as I am known; Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Allur'd by unresisted grace, Thy footsteps why did I pursue? Why did I ever seek thy face? What secret power my spirit drew After I knew not whom to run? Speak, Father; am I not thy son? From whom have all my blessings flow'd? Who gave me these enlarg'd desires? Who made me restless after God, And burnt me up with inward fires? O let the author now be shewn, Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Page 143 Who held my fleeting soul in life, And turn'd aside the fatal hour? Who, when I oft gave o'er the strife, Preserv'd me from the adverse power, Remov'd the death I would not shun? Speak, Father; am I not thy son? When twice ten thousand times I fell, Who was it rais'd the sinner up, The sinner sinking into hell? How came I by this spark of hope? Who quicken'd me, a lifeless stone? Speak, Father; am I not thy son? If thou didst see me in my blood, And bid the dying sinner live, If freely I am counted good, O let me all thy life receive, O do not leave thy work undone: Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Led thro' the howling wilderness If now I view the promis'd land, Here let my weary wandrings cease, Divide the waves with thy right-hand, Bid me thro' Jordan's stream go on; Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Or if in my forlorn estate Thy will appoints me to remain, Behold me still content to wait In doubt, and fear, in grief, and pain, Only when all my hope is gone, Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Alas! I know not how to pray, But all my wants are known to thee, Father, instruct me what to say, Or interceed thyself for me, Page 144 Then hearken to thy Spirit's groan! Speak, Father; am I not thy son? If now the bowels of thy love Yearn over such a worm as me, Send down thy Spirit from above, And make me clean, and set me free, The promis'd Comforter send down; Speak, Father; am I not thy son?