Wesley Corpus

Yet in the midst of us thou art, Thou dost in many an humble heart Thy gracious sway maintain, Our candlestick is not remov'd; Thy name is still by those approv'd Who bear thy name in vain. Page 20 Thee in our creeds we still confess, Hold fast our form of godliness, And search thy written word: Ah! Do not, Lord, our nation leave, 'Till with thy Spirit we receive A power to call thee Lord. Confirm in our degenerate days And perfect thine own work of grace But now again begun, Still with our favour'd nation stay, 'Till every island flee away Before thine azure throne. "I am weary with repenting." Jer. xv. 6. Dreadful soul-o'erwhelming word! Have we wearied out the Lord? Can the God of mercy be Weary of forgiving me? Are his last compassions spent, Will he never more repent, Never more my sins pass by, Leave me to sin on, and die? Justly mayst thou give me up Dying without peace or hope, Righteous is my God, if thou Finally forsake me now: But if he, the sinners' friend, He, whose mercies never end, Prays that I may turn and live, Father, thou must still forgive! "Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuseth to be healed? Wilt thou be altogether unto me as waters that fail?" Jer. xv. 18. Ah! Why am I left to complain In gloomy despair of relief? No end of oppression and pain, No respite, or ease of my grief! Page 21 To sooth my incurable wound No friendly physician I see; No balm is in Gilead found, No promise of mercy for me.