The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

O my old, my bosom foe,
Rejoice not over me!
Ofttimes thou hast laid me low,
And wounded mortally;
Yet thy prey thou couldst not keep,
Jesus, when I lowest fell,
Heard me cry out of the deep,
And brought me up from hell.

Foolish world, thy shouts forbear,
Till thou hast won the day:
Could thy wisdom keep me there,
When in thy hands I lay?
If my heart to thee incline,
Christ again shall set it free:
I am His, and He is mine
To all eternity.

Satan, cease thine empty boast,
And give thy triumphs o'er;
Still thou seest I am not lost,
While Jesus can restore:
Though through thy deceit I fall,
Surely I shall rise again;
Christ my King is over all,
And I with Him shall reign.

451

O my threefold enemy,
To whom I long did bow,
See your lawful captive see,
No more your captive now:
Now before my face ye fly,
More than conqueror now I am,
Sin, the world, and hell defy
In Jesu's powerful name.

University of Virginia Library

XCIV. THE SAME.

Hymn 7.

[O my old, my bosom foe]