Wesley Corpus

Hymns and Sacred Poems (1749) Vol 1

AuthorCharles Wesley
Typehymn-collection
Year1749
Passage IDcw-duke-hymns-and-sacred-poems-1749-vol-1-093
Words375
Sourcehttps://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/...
Trinity Reign of God Pneumatology
Jesu, in us thyself reveal, The winds are hush'd, the sea is still, If in the ship thou art; O manifest thy power divine, Enter this sinking church of thine, And dwell in every heart. Come in, come in, thou Prince of Peace, And all the storms of sin shall cease, And fall no more to rise; We then, if thou with us remain, Our port shall in a moment gain, And anchor in the skies. Gloria Patri.97 Rejoice with us, ye angel-host, Your songs triumphant raise, To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost Attribute equal praise. Praise everlasting as his love With you we soon shall give, And seated on our thrones above In heavenly glory live. Abba Father!98 Lord, I know not how to pray, Help mine infirmity, Tell me, Father, what to say, And I will speak to thee: 97A manuscript precursor of this hymn appears in MS Clarke, 215. 98Manuscript precursors of this hymn appear in MS Occasional Hymns, 67-69; and MS Shent, 84a-85a. Page 175 Wretched, poor, and helpless I Would fain be taken to thy breast; Abba Father, hear me cry, And lull my soul to rest. E'er I utter my complaint My wants to thee are known; Need I tell thee that I want The Spirit of thy Son? Still, alas! For this I sigh, Forlorn, forsaken, and distrest: Abba Father, c. Once I knew thee reconcil'd, And saw thy smiling face, Loving as a little child, I lisp'd my Father's praise: Now I cannot find thee nigh, By clouds of sin and grief opprest: Abba Father, c. Ever hoping against hope, I struggle to believe: 'Till thy mercy lift me up, Contentedly I grieve; Weeping at thy feet I lie That I have so my God displeas'd: Abba Father, c. Tho' thou seem to cast me out, And leave me still to mourn, Yet thou wilt (I dare not doubt) Thou wilt at last return: Thou canst not thyself deny, Of thee I shall be re-possest: Abba Father, c. Page 176 To chastise me for my pride Thou hidest now thy face: When my will is crucified, I shall regain thy grace; Pain shall at thy presence fly, Again I shall in thee be blest: Abba Father, c.