Wesley Corpus

Or if the danger they confess, The danger on their foes they turn, Those treacherous enemies to peace, Those objects of their hate and scorn, "Let the presumptuous aliens come, And rush upon their instant doom." Blind with intoxicating pride (Sad prelude of a nation's fall!) They wholly in themselves confide, Nor on the Lord of armies call, Nor humbly at thy footstool own Salvation is from God alone. Hymn VII.6 Did they, O God, ascribe to thee Their strange escapes in dangers past? Alas for them, alas for me So soon forgetful of the last! Snatch'd from the anti-christian power The gulph wide opening to devour. Appall'd we saw th' invader's sword March unoppos'd thro' half the land! Jehovah then pronounc'd the word, And lo! At thy supreme command 6A manuscript version of this hymn appears in MS Miscellaneous Hymns, 160-62. Page 21 The blasted savages of Rome Recoil'd and sunk into the tomb. But have we by their ruin rose To a new life of righteousness, Or lull'd in more profound repose Abus'd, and forfeited our peace? Our peace is gone, our safety fled, And our dead souls are doubly dead. Call'd back by an ungrateful race The man on the red horse returns; And while thy wrath a moment stays, The nation sports, the remnant mourns! Ah! Who of all thy saints can tell Shall grace or justice turn the scale! Dare we again for respite cry, Or deprecate th' impending blow? If now thou layst thy thunder by, And sav'st us from our fiercest foe, Will Britain's sons their Saviour see, And give the praise entire to thee? We fear, the sav'd unthankful throng Will more and more obdurate prove, Thy providential mercy wrong, And trample on thy richest love, And when thou turn'st the sword aside, Thy judgments and thy grace deride! But, for thou hast not yet forbid The good for the prophane to pray, Hear thy own people interceed, The rough east-wind of judgment stay, 'Till general penitence remove, Or melt thine anger into love. Page 22 Thy mercies all our thoughts transcend, The worst thou canst in Christ forgive: O let our sins and troubles end, O let our ransom'd nation live! Hear the loud cry of Jesus' blood, And save us thro' the death of God! Hymn VIII.7