Wesley Corpus

This is our glorious calling's prize, Saviour, at this our wishes aim, Restore us to our paradise, Inscribe us, Lord, with thy new name. To all whom thou hast given an ear, The perfect grace make haste to give, And sanctify us wholly here, And to thy heaven of heavens receive. "Unto the angel of the church of the Laodiceans." Revelation iii. 14, c. Part I. Amen to all that God hath said, Witness divine, the just and true, Who wast before the worlds were made, Whose being no beginning knew; With guilty self-condemning fear, With humble self-abasing shame, Thy Spirit's dreadful charge we hear, Nor dare throw off th' imputed blame. God of unspotted purity, Us, and our works canst thou behold? Justly we are abhor'd by thee, For we are neither hot nor cold. Page 297 We call thee Lord, thy faith profess, But do not from our hearts obey, In soft Laodicean ease We sleep our useless lives away. We live in pleasures, and are dead, In search of fame and wealth we live, Commanded in thy steps to tread, We seek sometimes, but never strive. A lifeless form we still retain, Of this we make our empty boast, Nor know the name we take in vain: The power of godliness is lost. The power we daringly deny, A fancied good, a madman's dream, The truth itself we deem a lie, The promis'd Holy Ghost blaspheme. How long, great God, have we appear'd Abominable in thy sight! Better that we had never heard Thy word, or seen the gospel-light. Better that we had never known The way to heaven thro' saving grace, Than basely in our lives disown And slight, and mock thee to thy face. Thou rather would'st that we were cold, Than seem to serve thee without zeal, Less guilty, if with those of old, We worship'd Thor and Woden still. Less grievous will the judgment-day To Sodom and Gomorrah prove, Than us, who cast our faith away, And trample on thy richer love. Page 298 Part II. Yet still we glory in thy name, O Christ, as though we knew150 thy grace, Thee with unhallow'd lips we claim, A lukewarm, worse than heathen race. We say, that we with goods abound, Are rich, and full, and need no more, Nor know that we are wretched found With thee, and bare, and blind, and poor.