Wesley Corpus

Sore buffeted, I ask again Deliverance from my sin and pain; Thou hear'st my bitterest cry: Tempted above what I can bear, O might I now escape the snare, And bless my God, and die! "My grace is sufficient for thee." 2 Cor. xii. 9. Must I be tried and tortur'd still? I yield to thy mysterious will; But give me, Lord, to prove In nature's utter helplesness, The strength of all-sufficient grace, Th' omnipotence of love. "My grace is sufficient for thee." 2 Cor. xii. 9. It hath for me sufficient been: Thy justifying grace, Which now preserves my soul from sin, Shall keep me all my days: Saviour, thy sanctifying love Shall its own work compleat, And fit me for the realms above, And place me on thy seat. Page 305 "I will rather glory in my infirmities." 2 Cor. xii. 9. Less than the least in his own eyes, Not of his gifts so largely given, Not of his flight to paradise, Or rapture to the highest heaven, Doth Paul, the saint, the aged, boast, Or witness his own perfect grace, But when he feels his weakness most, He glories in his helplesness. "I am nothing." 2 Cor. xii. 11. Dared the chief apostle say, "I am perfect, great, or good," Tho' his sin was done away, Tho' he felt the hallowing blood? I, like him, the least would be, Nothing I myself would call: Nothing I, yet Christ in me, Christ in me is all in all! "This we wish, even your perfection." 2 Cor. xiii. 9. Was it a fruitless fond desire, Which never could accomplish'd be? Or did his Lord the wish inspire A glorious, spotless church to see, To see the polish'd pillars shine, Inscrib'd with perfect love divine? Is it of nature or of grace, Lord, that I wish thy church renew'd In true consummate holiness, And mark'd with the new name of God? Jesus, declare thine utmost will, Thy house with all thy fulness fill. If after God thou hear'st me pray, If now I in thy Spirit groan, O take the stumbling-block away, O perfect all thy saints in one, And then, to fetch thy spotless bride, Come down, and seat us by thy side.