Wesley Corpus

If now thou knockest at my heart, Now open to thyself the door, The gift unspeakable impart; The kingdom to my soul restore, Call home, call home thy banish'd one; Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Hast thou not made me willing, Lord! Do I not now my sins confess? Be just, and faithful to thy word, Cleanse me from all unrighteousness, Finish the work thou hast begun; Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Hath not my Saviour died to make The child of wrath a child of God? Hast thou not pardon'd for his sake The soul, for which he shed his blood? And died he not for me t' atone? Speak, Father; am I not thy son? I cannot rest 'till pure within; Tho' he hath wash'd away my stains, Remov'd the guilt and power of sin, Yet while the carnal mind remains, I still must make my ceaseless moan; Speak, Father; am I not thy son? Page 145 Or if my endless groans and sighs Thy kind compassion cannot move, Be deaf to all my prayers and cries, But hear my Advocate above, Hear him, who pleads before thy throne, "Speak, Father; is he not thy son!" "And a man shall be as an hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest: as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." Isaiah xxxii. 2. To the haven of thy breast, O Son of man, I fly: Be my refuge38 and my rest, For Oh! The storm is high: Save me from the furious blast, A covert from the tempest be, Hide me, Jesu, till o'repast The storm of sin I see. Welcome as the water-spring To a dry, barren place, O descend on me, and bring Thy sweet refreshing grace: O're a parch'd and weary land As a great rock extends its shade, Hide me, Saviour, with thy hand, And skreen my naked head. In the time of my distress Thou hast my succour been, In my utter helplessness Restraining me from sin; 38Ori., "refuse"; corrected in errata. Page 146 O how swiftly didst thou move To save me in the trying hour! Still protect me with thy love, And shield me with thy power.