I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
LII. |
LIII. |
LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
LXVI. |
LXVII. |
LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXII. |
LXXIII. |
LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
LXXVI. |
LXXVII. |
LXXVIII. |
LXXIX. |
LXXX. |
LXXXI. |
LXXXII. |
LXXXIII. |
LXXXIV. |
LXXXVI. |
LXXXVII. |
LXXXVIII. |
LXXXIX. |
XC. |
XCI. |
XCII. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
IN TEMPTATION.
Where, my soul, is now thy boast?
Where the sense of sin forgiven?
Destitute, tormented, lost,
Down the stream of nature driven,
Crush'd by sin's redoubled load;
Where, my soul, is now thy God?
Where the sense of sin forgiven?
Destitute, tormented, lost,
Down the stream of nature driven,
Crush'd by sin's redoubled load;
Where, my soul, is now thy God?
Far from me my God is gone,
All my joys with Him are fled,
Every comfort is withdrawn,
Peace is lost, and hope is dead;
Sin, and only sin I feel,
Pride and lust, self-will and hell.
All my joys with Him are fled,
Every comfort is withdrawn,
Peace is lost, and hope is dead;
Sin, and only sin I feel,
Pride and lust, self-will and hell.
325
Did I then my soul deceive?
Rashly claim a part in Thee?
Did I, Lord, in vain believe,
Falsely hope Thou diedst for me?
Must I back my hopes restore,
Trust Thou diedst for me no more?
Rashly claim a part in Thee?
Did I, Lord, in vain believe,
Falsely hope Thou diedst for me?
Must I back my hopes restore,
Trust Thou diedst for me no more?
No—I never will resign
What of Thee by faith I know;
Never cease to call Thee mine,
Never will I let Thee go:
Be it I my soul deceive,
Yet I will, I will believe.
What of Thee by faith I know;
Never cease to call Thee mine,
Never will I let Thee go:
Be it I my soul deceive,
Yet I will, I will believe.
Though I groan beneath Thy frown,
Hence I will not, cannot fly;
Though Thy justice cast me down,
At thy mercy-seat I lie;
Let me here my sentence meet,
Let me perish at Thy feet!
Hence I will not, cannot fly;
Though Thy justice cast me down,
At thy mercy-seat I lie;
Let me here my sentence meet,
Let me perish at Thy feet!
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||