Wesley Corpus

By whom shall I thy sorrows chear? As a wild bull thy sons lie bound, And struggling in the hunter's snare, And bellowing thro' their spirit's wound. Fainting in all the streets they lie, O'erwhelm'd beneath their guilty load, Rebuk'd by him they dar'd defy, Full of the fury of thy God. Wherefore to thee the Lord hath said, (Opprest and drunk with wrath divine) The Lord thy God, who deigns to plead His people's desp'rate cause, and thine; Lo! I thy soul have freely lov'd, I have display'd my mercy's power, The cup out of thy hands remov'd, And thou shalt never taste it more. Mine indignation's dreadful cup The portion of thy foes shall be, They, they shall all the dregs drink up: The cup of blessing is for thee. Thee, Sion, thee: so long compell'd To stoop at the oppressor's frown, Enslav'd by man, and forc'd to yield, When sin, or Satan cried, Bow down. Poor vassal! To rebel afraid, Thy baseness bow'd to every lust, As clay thou hast thy body laid, And mix'd thy spirit with the dust. But I, the righteous Lord, on all That tread thee down will vengeance take, My fury on thy sin shall fall, Mine arm an end of sin shall make. Page 25 Its being with its power destroy, The inward stumbling-block remove, And fill thee with unfading joy, And crown thee with eternal love. The Sixty-First Chapter of Isaiah. Part I.16 The Spirit of the Lord my God (Spirit of power, and health, and love) My Father hath on me bestow'd, And sent me from his throne above. Prophet, and priest, and king of peace, Anointed to declare his will, To minister his pard'ning grace, And govern every soul I heal. To sinners bruis'd, and meek, and poor, Good tidings of great joy t' impart, Sinners incurable to cure, And bind up every broken heart. The royal edict to proclaim, Redemption for the captives found, Mercy for all in Jesu's name, And liberty to spirits bound. Sinners, obey the heavenly call, Your prison-doors stand open wide, Go forth, for I have ransom'd all, For every soul of man have died.