Scripture Hymns (1762) Vol 2
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1762 |
| Passage ID | cw-duke-scripture-hymns-1762-vol-2-134 |
| Words | 347 |
| Source | https://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/... |
Page 178 And when the power is given, Spotless, and perfected in love, I shall triumphantly remove To find my wealth in heaven. "He went away sorrowful." Matt. xix. 22. Forbid it, Lord, that I should be Griev'd to sell all and follow thee: Ah, never leave me to depart, But keep possession of my heart: Left to myself, I surely know, Away from thee I soon should go, With-hold my heart so dearly bought, And sell my soul and God for nought. "Why stand ye here all the day idle?" Matt. xx. 6. Shall I stand idle still, 'Till life's11 short day is past, Or now begin to do thy will, And work for God at last? Hired long ago I was At Jordan's sacred flood, And sign'd the servant of thy cross, The purchase of thy blood. "Many be called, but few chosen." Matt. xx. 16. The number of the call'd is great, But of the chosen small, Invited to the gospel-treat So few obey the call, So few the proffer'd blessing take, And to the end endure, Giving all diligence to make Their own election sure. "Ye know not what ye ask." Matt. xx. 22. Such was our ignorant desire, Our zeal above the rest t' aspire, 11Ori., "life"; a mistake, corrected by John Wesley in manuscript in his personal copy. Page 179 While babes, the father's joy to prove! Ambitious at thy side to reign, The rest without the toil to gain, We ask'd the crown of perfect love: Blindly we ask'd for pain and loss, A deeper cup, an heavier cross; And still we all thy grace implore: But humbly waiting to receive, Manner and time to thee we leave, Thy will be done, we ask no more. "Ye know not what ye ask." Matt. xx. 22. Advancement in thy kingdom here Whoe'er impatiently desire, They know not, Lord, the pangs severe The trials which they first require: They all must first thy sufferings share,12 Ambitious of their calling's prize, And every day thy burthen bear, And thus to late perfection rise.