Wesley Corpus

My heart is full of Christ, and longs Its glorious matter to declare! Of him I make my loftiest songs, I cannot from his praise forbear; My ready tongue makes haste32 to sing The beauties of my heavenly King. Fairer than all the earth-born race, Perfect in comeliness33 thou art, Replenish'd are thy lips with grace, And full of love thy tender heart: God ever blest, we bow the knee, And own all fulness dwells in thee. Page 74 Gird on thy thigh the Spirit's sword, And take to thee thy power divine, Stir up thy strength, Almighty Lord, All power, and majesty are thine, Assert thy worship, and renown, O all-redeeming God come down. Come, and maintain thy righteous cause, And let thy glorious toil succeed, Dispread the victory of thy cross, Ride on, and prosper in thy deed, Thro' earth triumphantly ride on, And reign in all our hearts alone. Still let the word of truth prevail, The gospel of thy general grace, Of mercy mild that ne'er shall fail, Of everlasting righteousness Into the faithful soul brought in, To root out all the seeds of sin. Terrible things thine own right-hand Shall teach thy greatness to perform: Who in the vengeful day can stand Unshaken by thine anger's storm While riding on the whirlwind's wings, They meet the thundring King of kings! Sharp are the arrows of thy love, And pierce the most obdurate heart: Their point thine enemies shall prove, And strangely fill'd with pleasing smart, Fall down before thy cross subdued, And feel thine arrows dipt in blood. O God of love, thy sway we own, Thy dying love doth all controul; Justice and grace support thy throne, Set up in every faithful soul, Stedfast it stands in them, and sure, When pure as thou their God art pure. Page 75 Lover thou art of purity, And hatest every spot of sin, Nothing profane can dwell with thee, Nothing unholy or unclean: And therefore doth thy Father own His glorious likeness in his Son. Therefore he hath his Spirit shed Spirit of joy, and power, and grace, Immeasurably on thy head; First-born of all the chosen race, From thee the sacred unction springs That makes thy fellows priests and kings.