Wesley Corpus

But our great God, who reigns on high, Shall laugh their haughty rage to scorn, Scatter their evil with his eye, Or to his praise their fierceness turn; While all their efforts to remove His church, shall stablish her in love. Yes, Lord, thy promise-word is true, Our sacred hairs are number'd all, Tho' earth, and hell our lives pursue, Without thy leave we cannot fall: And if thou slack the murtherer's chain, We suffer but with thee to reign. Page 110 Our sufferings shall advance thy cause, And blunt the persecutor's sword, Dispread the victory of thy cross, And glorify our conqu'ring Lord; Evil shall work for Sion's good: Its seed is still the martyr's blood. Hymns for the Persecuted. Hymn II. For the Brethren at Wednesbury. Dear dying Lamb, for whom alone We suffer pain, and shame, and loss, Hear thine afflicted people groan, Crush'd by the burthen of thy cross, And bear our fainting spirits up, And bless the bitter, sacred cup. Drunkards, and slaves of lewd excess, Bad, lawless men, thou knowst, we liv'd: The world, and we were then at peace, No devil his own servants griev'd, Evil we did, but suffer'd none; The world will always love its own. But now we would thy word obey, And strive t' escape the wrath divine, Expos'd to all, an helpless prey, Bruis'd by our enemies, and thine, As sheep 'midst ravening wolves we lie, And daily grieve, and daily die. Smitten, we turn the other cheek, Our ease, and name, and goods forego, Help, or redress no longer seek In any child of man below; 116Ori., "8" (in both editions). Page 111 The powers thou didst for us ordain, For us they bear the sword in vain. But wilt thou not at last appear, Into thine hand the matter take? We look for no protection here, But thee our only refuge make, To thee, O righteous judge, appeal, And wait thine acceptable will. Thou wilt not shut thy bowels up, Or justice to the opprest deny; Thy mercy's ears thou canst not stop Against the mournful prisoner's cry, Who ever make our humble moan, And look for help to thee alone.