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| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
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| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
AT THE APPROACH OF TEMPTATION.
God of my life, whose gracious power
Through various deaths my soul hath led,
Or turn'd aside the fatal hour,
Or lifted up my sinking head;
Through various deaths my soul hath led,
Or turn'd aside the fatal hour,
Or lifted up my sinking head;
In all my ways Thy hand I own,
Thy ruling providence I see:
O, help me still my course to run,
And still direct my paths to Thee.
Thy ruling providence I see:
O, help me still my course to run,
And still direct my paths to Thee.
On Thee my helpless soul is cast,
And looks again Thy grace to prove:
I call to mind the wonders past,
The countless wonders of Thy love.
And looks again Thy grace to prove:
I call to mind the wonders past,
The countless wonders of Thy love.
Thou, Lord, my spirit oft hast stay'd,
Hast snatch'd me from the gaping tomb,
A monument of mercy made,
And rescued me from wrath to come.
Hast snatch'd me from the gaping tomb,
A monument of mercy made,
And rescued me from wrath to come.
323
Oft hath the sea confess'd Thy power,
And gave me back to Thy command:
It could not, Lord, my life devour,
Safe in the hollow of Thy hand.
And gave me back to Thy command:
It could not, Lord, my life devour,
Safe in the hollow of Thy hand.
Oft from the margin of the grave
Thou, Lord, hast lifted up my head:
Sudden I found Thee near to save;
The fever own'd Thy touch, and fled.
Thou, Lord, hast lifted up my head:
Sudden I found Thee near to save;
The fever own'd Thy touch, and fled.
But, O! the mightier work of grace,
That still the life of faith I live,
That still I pant to sing Thy praise,
That still my all I gasp to give!
That still the life of faith I live,
That still I pant to sing Thy praise,
That still my all I gasp to give!
Pluck'd from the roaring lion's teeth,
Caught up from the eternal fire,
Snatch'd from the gates of hell, I breathe,
And, lo! to heaven I still aspire!
Caught up from the eternal fire,
Snatch'd from the gates of hell, I breathe,
And, lo! to heaven I still aspire!
Whither, O, whither should I fly,
But to my loving Saviour's breast?
Secure within Thy arms to lie,
And safe beneath Thy wings to rest.
But to my loving Saviour's breast?
Secure within Thy arms to lie,
And safe beneath Thy wings to rest.
I see the fiery trial near;
But Thou, my God, art still the same:
Hell, earth, and sin I scorn to fear,
Divinely arm'd with Jesu's Name.
But Thou, my God, art still the same:
Hell, earth, and sin I scorn to fear,
Divinely arm'd with Jesu's Name.
I have no skill the snare to shun,
But Thou, O Christ, my wisdom art:
I ever into ruin run,
But Thou art greater than my heart.
But Thou, O Christ, my wisdom art:
I ever into ruin run,
But Thou art greater than my heart.
324
I have no might to' oppose the foe,
But everlasting strength is Thine.
Show me the way that I should go,
Show me the path I should decline.
But everlasting strength is Thine.
Show me the way that I should go,
Show me the path I should decline.
Which shall I leave, and which pursue?
Thou only my Adviser be;
My God, I know not what to do;
But, O! mine eyes are fix'd on Thee!
Thou only my Adviser be;
My God, I know not what to do;
But, O! mine eyes are fix'd on Thee!
Foolish, and impotent, and blind,
Lead me a way I have not known;
Bring me where I my heaven may find,
The heaven of loving Thee alone.
Lead me a way I have not known;
Bring me where I my heaven may find,
The heaven of loving Thee alone.
Enlarge my heart to make Thee room;
Enter, and in me ever stay:
The crooked then shall straight become,
The darkness shall be lost in day!
Enter, and in me ever stay:
The crooked then shall straight become,
The darkness shall be lost in day!
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |