The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Ye neighbours, and friends Of Jesus, draw near;
His love condescends, By titles so dear
To call, and invite you His triumph to prove,
And freely delight you In Jesus's love.

The Shepherd who died His sheep to redeem,
On every side Are gather'd to Him,
The weary and burden'd, The reprobate race,
And wait to be pardon'd Through Jesus's grace.

The publicans all, And sinners draw near,
They come at His call Their Saviour to hear,
Lamenting and mourning, Their sin is so great,
And daily returning, They fall at His feet.

The poor, and the blind, The halt, and the lame,
Are willing to find In Jesus's name
Their help and salvation; Which still they retrieve:
There's no condemnation For them that believe.

The drunkards, and thieves, And harlots return;
For Him, that receives Poor sinners, they mourn:
The common blasphemer On Jesus doth call,
His loving Redeemer Who suffer'd for all.

The outcasts of men Their Saviour pursue;
In horror and pain The profligate crew
Cry out for a Saviour, A Saviour unknown,
And look to find favour Through mercy alone.

They seek Him, and find, They ask, and receive
The Friend of mankind, Who bids them believe:
On Jesus they venture, His gift they embrace,
And forcibly enter His kingdom of grace.

116

The blind are restored Through Jesus's name,
They see their dear Lord, And follow the Lamb;
The halt they are walking, And running their race;
The dumb they are talking Of Jesus's praise.

The deaf hear His voice, And comforting word,
It bids them rejoice In Jesus their Lord,
“Thy sins are forgiven, Accepted thou art,”
They listen, and heaven Springs up in their heart.

The lepers from all Their spots are made clean,
The dead by His call Are raised from their sin,
In Jesu's compassion The sick find a cure,
And gospel salvation Is preach'd to the poor.

To us, and to them, Is publish'd the word;
Then let us proclaim Our life-giving Lord,
Who now is reviving His work in our days,
And mightily striving To save us by grace.

O Jesus, ride on Till all are subdued,
Thy mercy make known, And sprinkle Thy blood,
Display Thy salvation, And teach the new song
To every nation, And people, and tongue.

CXCVII. ANOTHER.

Hymn 2.

[Glory to Christ be given]

Glory to Christ be given
By all in earth and heaven!
Christ, my Prophet, Priest, and King,
Thee with angel choirs I praise,
Joyful hallelujahs sing,
Triumph in Thy sovereign grace.

Thou hast the hungry fill'd,
Thou hast Thy arm reveal'd:

117

Thou in all the heathen's sight,
Hast Thy righteousness display'd,
Brought immortal life to light,
Ransom'd whom Thy hands have made.

Even now, all-loving Lord,
Thou hast sent forth Thy word,
Thou the door hast open'd wide:
(Who can shut Thy open door!)
I the grace have testified,
Preach'd Thy gospel to the poor.

Thy goodness gave success,
And bless'd it with increase.
Not to me of Adam's race
Worst and vilest; not to me!
Thine is all the work of grace,
All the praise be paid to Thee.

Still at Thy feet I lie,
The chief of sinners I:
Let me but acceptance find,
Let me but Thy love partake;
Save me, Saviour of mankind,
Save me for Thy mercy sake.

On Thee for help I call,
Without Thy help I fall,
Fall a final castaway:
O forbid, forbid it Thou,
Snatch me from the evil day,
Save me, or I perish now.

O that ev'n I might share,
The blessings I declare,

118

Taste the glorious gospel grace,
Rise from sin for ever free,
See in holiness Thy face,
Live by faith, and die in Thee!

O that the hour were come
Which calls my spirit home!
O that I my wish might have,
Quietly lay down my head,
Sink into an early grave,
Now be number'd with the dead!

Give me that second rest,
And take me to Thy breast:
Only let me cease from sin,
Then the welcome summons send:
Bid me now be pure within,
Bid my useless warfare end.

A man of sin and strife
I want no longer life:
Heavenward all my hope aspires,
Full of immortality,
Jesus, Thee my soul requires,
Gasps to be dissolved in Thee.

Yet do I this resign,
Thy will be done, not mine:
So I may but serve Thy will,
Lengthen out my wretched span,
Let me bear my burden still,
Bear my sin, and drag my chain.

Still let me preach Thy word
The prisoner of the Lord,

119

Fully my commission prove,
Till the perfect grace I feel,
Saved and sanctified by love,
Stamp'd with all Thy Spirit's seal.

Then, Lord, when pure in heart,
O let me then depart,
With my children see Thy face,
(Children whom the Lord hath given,)
Take above the meanest place,
Least of all the saints in heaven.

CXCVIII. THE SAME.

Hymn 3.

[Who are these that come from far]

Who are these that come from far,
Swifter than a flying cloud!
Thick as flocking doves they are,
Eager in pursuit of God:
Trembling as the storm draws nigh,
Hastening to their place of rest,
See them to the windows fly,
To the ark of Jesu's breast!

Who are these but sinners poor,
Conscious of their lost estate,
Sin-sick souls, who for their cure
On the Good Physician wait;
Fallen who bewail their fall,
Proffer'd mercy who embrace,
Listening to the gospel call,
Longing to be saved by grace.

For his mate the turtle moans,
For his God the sinner sighs;
Hark, the music of their groans,
Humble groans that pierce the skies!

120

Surely God their sorrows hears,
Every accent, every look,
Treasures up their gracious tears,
Notes their sufferings in His book.

He who hath their cure begun,
Will He now despise their pain?
Can He leave His work undone,
Bring them to the birth in vain?
No; we all who seek shall find,
We who ask shall all receive,
Be to Christ in spirit join'd,
Free from sin for ever live.

CXCIX. THE SAME.

Hymn 4.

[See how great a flame aspires]

See how great a flame aspires,
Kindled by a spark of grace!
Jesu's love the nations fires,
Sets the kingdoms on a blaze.
To bring fire on earth He came;
Kindled in some hearts it is;
O that all might catch the flame,
All partake the glorious bliss!

When He first the work begun,
Small and feeble was His day;
Now the word doth swiftly run,
Now it wins its widening way,
More and more it spreads, and grows,
Ever mighty to prevail,
Sin's strongholds it now o'erthrows,
Shakes the trembling gates of hell.

121

Sons of God, your Saviour praise,
He the door hath open'd wide,
He hath given the word of grace;
Jesu's word is glorified:
Jesus mighty to redeem,
He alone the work hath wrought,
Worthy is the work of Him,
Him who spake a world from nought.

Saw ye not the cloud arise
Little as a human hand?
Now it spreads along the skies,
Hangs o'er all the thirsty land!
Lo! the promise of a shower
Drops already from above;
But the Lord shall shortly pour
All the Spirit of His love.

University of Virginia Library

[AFTER PREACHING TO THE NEWCASTLE COLLIERS]

CXCVI. AFTER PREACHING TO THE NEWCASTLE COLLIERS.

Hymn 1.