Wesley Corpus

Yet, O most patient God, forbear The wretches who thy anger dare, And court th' invader's sword; Rather regard the faithfull seed, Who to the opening seal give heed, And tremble at thy word. We do not dream the danger past! The first may soon become the last, Unless thine hand we see Extended o're the nations now, And humbly to thy judgments bow, And ask our lives from thee. Our lives are in our Maker's hand; And 'till thy mind we understand, Thine utmost counsel prove, O let us in the Spirit groan, Father, thy will on earth be done, As in the courts above! Page 16 Hymn III. With sober joy, and conscious fear, Father, we in thy sight appear, Thy mercies and our sins confess, And tremble, while we sing thy praise. Repentance to our thanks we join, The ministers of wrath divine, The weapons in thy vengeful hand, The scourges of a sinful land. Thou justly hast chastiz'd thy foes, But spar'd the authors of their woes, Indulg'd us with a kind reprieve, And strangely suffer'd us to live. Not for our nation's righteousness Hast thou vouchsaf'd our arms to bless, For we have most rebellious been, For we have added sin to sin: Have done thy Spirit worse despite, Sinners against superior light, A favour'd, but unthankful race, Who trample on thy choicest grace. Yet now before thy gracious throne Our deep ingratitude we own, Poor guilty worms, who blush to prove The riches of thy patient love. We offer up our weak desires Of giving what thy love requires, Of following after righteousness, Of living to our Saviour's praise. Page 17 But while we render thee thine own, Thy power be in our weakness shewn, Jesus to each thy love impart, And bless us with a grateful heart. Hymn IV. Sing to the Lord by whom we live, From whom our blessings spring, Who doth to us salvation give, And vict'ry to our king. Thee, Conqueror of our foes we greet, Thee, Lord of hosts proclaim, And cast our laurels at thy feet, And tremble at thy name. With lowly reverential joy Thy mercy we embrace, This solemn interval employ In ceaseless prayer and praise. Whate'er these threatning wars portend, Whate'er thy will decrees, Our souls that on thy love depend Are kept in perfect peace.