Wesley Corpus

We beckon'd to our friends for aid, Our partners in the other ship: They came; our easy trust betray'd, They came to sink us in the deep, Our vessel 'gainst their own to break, And then to gather up the wreck. Deceitful workers, in thy name, With guile they catch the simple heart, The feeble followers of the Lamb They make them from thy paths depart, Page 108 Remove from their high calling's prize, And rob them of their paradise. Deceiving, and deceiv'd, they glide Down the smooth stream of carnal peace, The gate thro' which they pass is wide, And broad their path of righteousness, No strife, no conflict, and no care, No cross, or holiness is there. Perfect at once, and pure, and clean, Yet foul, imperfect, and impure, They sin, and bless themselves in sin, And boast of their salvation sure: Saviour, the fond delusion shew, For O! They know not what they do. Alas, for them, that will not know The Lord abhors their sacrifice, Who weak, unstable souls o'erthrow, And on their brethren's ruin rise, Offer thee fraud, and robbery, And fawn, and lie, and steal for thee. Forgive them, Lord, but O! Restrain, No longer let their guile proceed: O might they their first love regain, And simply in thy statutes tread, Their faith by their obedience prove, And rise with us to perfect love. Hymns for the Persecuted. Hymn I. Jesu, the growing work is thine, And who shall hinder its success? In vain the alien armies join, Thy glorious gospel to suppress, Page 109 And vow, with Satan's aid, t' o'erthrow The work thy grace revives below. The wary world, as Julian wise, Wise with the wisdom from beneath, A while its milder malice tries, And lets these mad enthusiasts breathe, Breathe to infect their purest air, And spread the plague of virtue there. Wondring the calm despisers stand, And dream that they the respite give, Restrain'd by thine o'er-ruling hand, They kindly suffer us to live, Live, to defy their master's frown, And turn his kingdom up-side down. Still the old dragon bites his chain, Not yet commission'd from on high, Rage the fierce Pharisees in vain, Away with them the zealots cry, And hoary Caiaphas exclaims, And Bonner dooms us to the flames.