Wesley Corpus

Thy sins, which like a wide-spread cloud Darken'd the face of angry heaven, Lo! I have blotted out with blood: Thy sins are all thro' grace forgiven. I, the bright Sun of righteousness, Have chas'd the darkness all away; Return to me, who bought thy peace, Rejoice to see my gospel-day. Ye heavens rejoice in Jesus his grace, Let earth make a noise, and eccho his praise! Our all-loving Saviour hath pacified13 God, And paid for his favour, the price of his blood. Ye mountains, and vales, in praises abound, Ye hills, and ye dales, continue the sound, Break forth into singing ye trees of the wood, For Jesus is bringing lost sinners to God. Atonement he made for every one, The debt he hath paid, the work he hath done, Shout all the creation, below and above, Ascribing salvation to Jesus his love. His mercy hath brought salvation to all, Who take it unbought he frees them from thrall, Throughout the believer his glory displays, And perfects for ever the vessels of grace. O Israel, hear, thy God hath said, The voice of thy Creator own, I am the Lord, who all things made, And still stretch out the heavens alone. I hung the earth on empty space, And still in equal poise sustain; I make, and mar, pull down, and raise, And Lord of my creation reign. 13John Wesley substituted "satisfied" for "pacified" in manuscript in his personal copy of the 2nd edn. Page 17 I the weak sons of men o'er-rule, Their tokens and their schemes o'erthrow, Baffle their strength, their wisdom fool, On all their blasted projects blow. I the diviner's skill confound, From sinners I their purpose hide, Level their Babels with the ground, And torture, and distract their pride. I stop the wise, and drive them back, Cross and defeat their surest aim, Their knowledge foolishness I make, And turn their glory into shame. But I my servant's word fulfill, My messengers divine I own; Who shew the counsel of my will, Their word shall stand, and theirs alone. I speak th' irrevocable word, Which never unaccomplish'd dies; Jerusalem shall be restor'd, Thy ruins from the dust shall rise. I bid th' unfathom'd deep be dry, I bid the streams their course forsake, My will to kings I signify, And Cyrus for my servant take.