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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | XII. |
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| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
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| XIII. |
 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
IN TEMPTATION.
Sinking underneath my load,
Darkly feeling after Thee,
Let me ask, My God, my God,
Why hast Thou forsaken me?
Why, O, why am I forgot?
Lord, I seek, but find Thee not.
Darkly feeling after Thee,
Let me ask, My God, my God,
Why hast Thou forsaken me?
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Lord, I seek, but find Thee not.
Still I ask, nor yet receive,
Knock at the unopen'd door;
Still I struggle to believe,
Hope, though urged to hope no more,
Bearing what I cannot bear,
Yielding, fighting with despair.
Knock at the unopen'd door;
Still I struggle to believe,
Hope, though urged to hope no more,
Bearing what I cannot bear,
Yielding, fighting with despair.
Hear in mercy my complaint,
Hear, and hasten to my aid;
Help, or utterly I faint,
Fails the spirit Thou hast made;
Save me, or my foe prevails;
Save me, or Thy promise fails.
Hear, and hasten to my aid;
Help, or utterly I faint,
Fails the spirit Thou hast made;
Save me, or my foe prevails;
Save me, or Thy promise fails.
Struggling in the fowler's snare,
Lo! I ever look to Thee:
Tempted more than I can bear—
No, my soul, it cannot be;
True and faithful is the word,
Sure the coming of thy Lord.
Lo! I ever look to Thee:
Tempted more than I can bear—
No, my soul, it cannot be;
True and faithful is the word,
Sure the coming of thy Lord.
Come, then, O my Saviour, come!
God of truth, no longer stay;
God of love, dispel the gloom,
Point me out the promised way,
Let me from the trial fly,
Sink into Thy arms, and die!
God of truth, no longer stay;
God of love, dispel the gloom,
Point me out the promised way,
Let me from the trial fly,
Sink into Thy arms, and die!
Waft me to that happy shore,
Port of ease, and end of care:
All thy storms shall there be o'er,
Sin shall never reach me there,
Surely of my God possess'd,
Safe in my Redeemer's breast!
Port of ease, and end of care:
All thy storms shall there be o'er,
Sin shall never reach me there,
Surely of my God possess'd,
Safe in my Redeemer's breast!
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |