Wesley Corpus

Ev'n of ourselves shall men arise, With words perverse and soothing lies, Our children to beset, Disciples for themselves to make, And, draw for filthy lucre's sake, The sheep into their net. What then can their protection be? The virtue that proceeds from thee, The power of humble love: The strength of all-sufficient grace, Receiv'd in thine appointed ways, Can land them safe above. Page 22 Now, Saviour, cloath them with thy power, And arm their souls against that hour With faith invincible, Teach them to wield the Spirit's sword, And mighty in the written word To chase both earth and hell. When I from all my burthens freed, Am number'd with the peaceful dead, In everlasting rest, Pity the sheep I leave behind, My God, unutterably kind, And lodge them in thy breast. Ah! Never suffer them to leave The church, where thou art pleas'd to give Such tokens of thy grace! Confirm them in their calling here, Till ripe by holiest love t' appear Before thy glorious face. Whom I into thy hands commend, Wilt thou not keep them to the end, Thou infinite in love? Assure me, Lord, it shall be so, And let my quiet spirit go To join the church above. Sion, my first, my latest care, The burthen of my dying prayer, Now in thine arms I see; And sick on earth of seeing more, I hasten home, my God t' adore Thro' all eternity.