Hymns on God's Everlasting Love (1742)
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1742 |
| Passage ID | cw-duke-hymns-on-gods-everlasting-love-1742-002 |
| Words | 399 |
| Source | https://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/... |
But is it possible that I Remorse or hope again should know? If mercy's fountain is not dry To me, its streams eternal flow; If grace to me doth still abound, Then Judas might have pardon found. If yet again my Lord returns, And will not with his purchase part, If over me his Spirit mourns, And works upon my stony heart, None out of hell need now despair, A viler devil is not there! If after all my waste of love, (Enough ten thousand worlds to save) I still am call'd his grace to prove, And may in him redemption have, Sinners, ye all with me must own, The day of grace and life is one. God of unfathomable grace, Vouchsafe thy benefits to crown, Most fallen of the fallen race To me, of sinners chief, come down, A worse did ne'er thy Spirit grieve: A worse thou never canst forgive. Since first with Adam's sons he strove To bring th' apostates back to God, Page 6 The Spirit of thy grace and love Never, no never yet subdu'd A more rebellious worm than me, Or gain'd an harder victory. Then save me for thy mercy's sake, And give, O give me to thy Son, That I to all mankind may make The riches of thy mercy known, Thy everlasting love proclaim, And grace for all in Jesu's name. Hymn II. Jesus, my Jesus, hear, And bid the sinner hope, Guilty and trembling I draw near, But dare not give thee up: For this alone I live, A poor backslider I, Thy forfeit mercy to retrieve, Or at thy feet to die. O 'tis a bitter thing From Jesus to depart, This is, O death, thy only sting, I feel it in my heart; I bear my guilty load, My foolishness I mourn, I have forsook the living God; O how shall I return! O Jesu! Full of grace, To thee I make my moan, Let me again behold thy face, Call home thy banish'd one, Again my pardon seal, Again my soul restore, Page 7 And freely my backslidings heal, And bid me sin no more. Wilt thou not bid me rise? Speak; and my soul shall live; Forgive, my gasping spirit cries, Abundantly forgive: Where sin hath most increas'd, Let grace much more abound, Let me from all my bonds releas'd Again in thee be found.