Wesley Corpus

To thee I lift my mournful eye, Why am I thus? O tell me why Cannot I love my God? The hindrance must be all in me, It cannot in my Saviour be, Witness that streaming blood! It cost thy blood my heart to win, To buy me from the power of sin, And make me love again; Come then, dear29 Lord, thy right assert, Take to thyself my ransom'd heart, Nor bleed, nor die in vain. Desiring to Love. Hymn II.30 Thou lovely Lamb, who on the tree Shed'st thy last drop of blood for me, My sufferings to remove, Low in the dust I lie, and mourn, That I can make thee no return For all thy waste of love. 'Tis all thy loving heart's desire, That I thy fulness should require, And with my mis'ry part; Thy Spirit strives to set me free, The Father's wisdom speaks in thee, "My Son, give me thy heart." 29John Wesley substituted "my" for "dear" in manuscript in his personal copy of the 2nd edn. (1755). 30Manuscript precursors of this hymn appear in MS Shent, 131a-131b; and MS Thirty, 10-12. Page 54 What is it, Lord, that keeps me back? What is it which for thy dear sake I would not now forego? Pleasure, or wealth, or life, or fame? Thou knowst, no more my wishes aim At happiness below. I dread the human face divine, I want no other love than thine, All-lovely as thou art: I view thy creatures with disdain: Tear them away, let Jesus reign The monarch of my heart. I would not, Lord, my soul deceive, Willing I seem my all to leave, So I might purchase thee: What is it then that holds me still? My own, my own, and not the will Of him who died for me. It must be so; in me alone It stands; some cursed thing unknown Compels my Lord to stay; I will not suffer him to save, Some mystery of sin I have, That bars the Saviour's way. Shame on my soul! The dire disgrace Covers with guilty shame my face, And presses down my soul; Hardly compell'd, I now confess, I love, and cherish my disease, And will not be made whole. The Saviour God of love I clear, Who justifies is always near,