The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

The Lord, the' almighty Lord of hosts,
His own dread purpose hath fulfill'd;
Rebuked a sinful nation's boasts,
That all may see His arm reveal'd;
And Britain, humbled in the dust,
Confess His sharpest judgments just.

Righteous, O Lord, Thy judgments are!
We bow to Thy severe decree,
Who, casting out our formal prayer,
Hast given our foes the victory:
As pleased rebellion's cause to bless,
And crown the wicked with success.

The wicked are Thy sword and rod,
Our crimes commission'd to chastise;
Who long have fought against our God,
Provoked the vengeance of the skies;
Thy threatenings mock'd, Thy favours spurn'd,
Thy blessings into curses turn'd.

284

Therefore the dire decree takes place,
Abandon'd as to Satan's power,
A desperate, death-devoted race;
We see the slaughtering sword devour;
Our legions pass beneath the yoke,
Our nation is of God forsook.

Yet if Thou hast not fix'd our doom,
And sworn, in wrath, no more to spare,
If still there is for mercy room,
For hope, and penitence, and prayer,
Us in our blood once more reprieve,
And bid Thy sentenced rebels live.

Howe'er the righteous Thou conceal,
Or under, or above the skies,
The wicked must Thy justice feel;
And never shall Britannia rise,
Unless we to our Smiter turn,
And leave the sins for which we mourn.

HYMN II. FOR THE LOYAL AMERICANS.

Father of everlasting love,
The only Refuge of despair,
Thy bowels toward the' afflicted move,
And now Thou hear'st the mournful prayer
We for our helpless brethren breathe,
Who pant within the jaws of death.

The men who dared their king revere,
And faithful to their oaths abide,
Midst perjured hypocrites sincere,
Harass'd, oppress'd on every side;
Gaul'd by the tyrant's iron yoke,
By Britain's faithless sons forsook.

285

Our patriot chiefs betray'd their trust,
To serve their own infernal ends,
The slaves of avarice and lust,
Sparing their foes, they spoil'd their friends;
Basely repaid their loyal zeal,
And left them to the murderer's will.

As sheep appointed to be slain,
The victims of fidelity,
To man they look for help in vain;
But shall they look in vain to Thee,
God over all, who canst subdue
The hearts which mercy never knew?

Even now Thou canst disarm their rage,
(If so Thy gracious will intends,)
The wrath implacable assuage,
The malice of remorseless fiends;
Mercy at last compell'd to show,
And let the hopeless captives go.

Yet if our brethren's doom be seal'd,
And for superior joys design'd,
They have their glorious course fulfill'd;
To souls beneath the altar join'd,
Their guiltless blood hath found a tongue,
And every drop exclaims “How long?”

O earth, conceal not thou their blood
Which loud as Zechariah's cries!
O God, Thou just, avenging God,
Behold them with Thy flaming eyes,
And blast, and utterly consume
Those murderers of fanatic Rome.

286

Till then, Thou bidd'st Thy servants rest,
Who suffer'd death for conscience sake,
And wait to rise completely bless'd,
The general triumph to partake,
To see the righteous Judge come down,
And boldly claim the martyr's crown.

HYMN III.

[By whom, O God, shall Britain rise]

“By whom shall Jacob arise! For he is small.” —Amos viii. 2.

By whom, O God, shall Britain rise,
So small in all the nation's eyes,
So lessen'd in her own?
Out of the deep, we cry to Thee,
And with profound humility
Besiege Thy gracious throne.

By whom, O God, shall Britain rise?
Not by the' ignoble slaves of vice
Who have their country sold,
Betray'd us in their prosperous hour
To raise a restless faction's power,
And glut their lust of gold.

Not by the basest tools of war,
Who all Thy plagues and judgments dare,
In oaths and blasphemies,
Ravage their friends with sword and fire,
Through covetous or foul desire,
And hate the thoughts of peace.

By whom—but we inquire in vain,
Till Thou Thy own design explain,
For only, Lord, to Thee

287

Thy works, before the world began,
Thy chosen instrument, were known
From all eternity.

Thy searching eye beholds him now:
While suppliant at Thy feet we bow,
To us the man be show'd,
The' intrepid man of virtuous zeal,
Resolved and incorruptible,
Who seeks our nation's good:

Our nation's good, and not his own;
While listening to the plaintive moan,
Of loyalty oppress'd,
He serves his king's and God's designs,
America and Britain joins,
And blends them in his breast.

O that he in the gap may stand,
Raised up to save a sinking land,
Our blessings to restore,
Concord, and peace, and loyal fear,
And truth and piety sincere,
Till time shall be no more.

Then shall we, Lord, surround Thy throne,
Through Christ inseparably one,
United in Thy praise,
And sing, with all those hosts above,
The triumphs of all-conquering love
In everlasting lays.

HYMN IV.

[Great God, we know not what to do]

Great God, we know not what to do,
But fix our wishful eyes on Thee,
Who or by many, or by few,
Sav'st in the last extremity!

288

Whose arm, when all resources fail,
Its own immortal strength puts on,
When the infernal hosts prevail,
And Satan shouts, “The work is done.”

Whom hostile multitudes surround,
And nations ready to devour,
No help for us in man is found,
No refuge in our darkest hour,
Unless Thy greatness interpose,
To blast the' infallible design,
Confound our proud, triumphant foes,
And claim this ransom'd land for Thine.

Oft hath Thine arm, in ancient days,
Stretch'd out in our defence appear'd,
And ransom'd a devoted race,
And snatch'd us from the death we fear'd:
Armies and fleets invincible
Were baffled in their surest aim,
Treasons and plots Thou didst dispel,
Deep as the pit from which they came.

Thy providence reversed our doom,
When parricides the land o'erflow'd,
(Rebellious sects in league with Rome,)
And turn'd it to a field of blood.
For years we groan'd beneath their sway,
But mercy, by a powerful word,
Crush'd all our tyrants in a day,
Our blessings all at once restored.

Have we not lately heard and seen
More wonderful escapes than these,
From furious persecuting men,
From hosts of human savages?

289

Appall'd we heard Apollyon roar,
Aghast we saw the flames aspire,
Till rescued by almighty power,
And pluck'd as brands out of the fire.

Why then, great God, should we despair,
As Thou wert not almighty still,
But deaf to Thy own people's prayer
Who tremble at the' impending ill;
Who will not let the scourge o'erflow,
The desolating judgment come,
But still suspend the final blow,
And screen the land from Sodom's doom.

Wrestling with Abraham's faithful seed,
Lo! in the gap we humbly stand,
The righteous for the wicked plead,
Protectors of a guilty land.
Thou infinite in gracious power,
With theirs our suppliant suit receive,
Stay the rough wind, the fiery shower,
And for the remnant's sake forgive.

If now in us Thy Spirit cry,
In ours Thy own request attend;
The Lord of hosts, the Lord most high,
Deliverance to Thine Israel send:
Because Thou art the faithful God,
Our God in every age the same,
Because we trust in Jesu's blood,
And ask the grace in Jesu's name.

290

HYMN V. FOR HIS MAJESTY KING GEORGE.

Jesus, from whom dominion springs,
The faithful Counsellor of kings,
The sovereign Lord Thou art;
Thy Spirit on our king bestow,
Who only dost the mazes know
Of man's deceitful heart.

By factious demagogues gainsaid,
By fawning sycophants betray'd,
Who boast their loyalty,
How can he judge, or choose aright,
Unless assisted by Thy light,
And taught himself by Thee?

Do Thou the true discernment give,
Whom to reject, and whom receive
His royal toils to share;
O point him out, where'er conceal'd,
The upright man, with wisdom fill'd,
An empire's weight to bear.

The man with heavenly courage bold,
Above the lust of fame or gold,
Detach'd and unconfined,
A foe to every selfish end,
Religion's and his country's friend,
A friend to all mankind.

Not for himself but others made,
His country and his king to aid
With talents large endow'd;
Out of the throng Thy servant choose,
A vessel fitted for Thy use,
And for Britannia's good.

291

Him as a guardian angel send,
Our feuds, and woes, and wars to end,
Our sinking state to raise;
Brethren in lasting bonds to join,
And then confess—the work is Thine,
And give Thee all the praise.

So shall our happy monarch see
His kingdoms in prosperity,
Through Thy uniting power;
The Source of all our blessings own,
And prostrate at Thy gracious throne
The King of kings adore.

HYMN VI.

[At this most alarming crisis]

At this most alarming crisis,
Shall we not from sin awake,
While the great Jehovah rises,
Terribly the earth to shake?
While He doth a moment spare,
Shall we not attend the rod,
Hear His thunder's voice, “Prepare,
O prepare, to meet your God!”

Compass'd round with hostile nations,
All to our destruction sworn,
God of unexhausted patience,
Still we may to Thee return;
Though Thy peremptory sentence
Absolute perdition sound,
Place there is for true repentance,
Mercy sought may yet be found.

292

Still Thou hear'st the mourners sighing
For our wickedness abhorr'd,
Thousands in our Israel crying
Stop, O stop the slaughtering sword!
Drop Thy dreadful controversy,
While we at Thy footstool groan;
Lord, in wrath remember mercy,
Give us to Thy pleading Son!

By His bloody cross and passion,
By His precious death, we pray,
Turn aside Thine indignation,
Take Thy heaviest plague away;
Sin, the cause of our distresses,
Sin, the bitter root remove,
Then appeased, Thine anger ceases,
Then redeem'd, we praise and love.

HYMN VII. FOR CONCORD.

Divided 'gainst itself so long
How could a kingdom stand,
Had we not a Redeemer, strong
To prop our tottering land?
Had He not left Himself a seed
Who deprecate the woe,
Who day and night for mercy plead,
And still suspend the blow.

Still let Thy praying seed prevail
Our evils to remove,
Till mercy turns the hovering scale,
And justice yields to love;

293

His king till every Briton owns
With warmest loyalty,
And faction's and rebellion's sons
Stretch out their hands to Thee.

Now, Lord, a gracious token show,
The stoutest hearts incline
Their own true happiness to know,
Their common foes' design;
Against ourselves who turn our swords,
That they the spoils may gain,
And rise at last despotic lords,
And by our ruin reign.

Why should the specious fiend deceive
The many by the few?
Saviour, the multitude forgive,
They know not what they do;
They fancy those their country's friends,
Who hasten on its doom,
And blindly serve the treacherous ends
Of tyranny and Rome.

Open their eyes, almighty grace,
The latent snare to see,
That brethren may again embrace
In closest amity:
Britons! no more with Britons fight,
No more our God oppose!
Let Europe then their powers unite,
And all the world be foes.

294

HYMN VIII. A PRAYER FOR THE CONGRESS.

True is the oracle Divine,
The sentence which Thy lips hath pass'd,
Though hand in hand the wicked join,
They shall not, Lord, escape at last;
Who for a while triumphant seem,
Cursed with their own false hearts' desire,
Their empire is a fleeting dream,
Their hopes shall all in smoke expire.

Surely Thou wilt full vengeance take
On rebels 'gainst their king and God,
And strictest inquisition make
For rivers spill'd of guiltless blood,
By men who take Thy name in vain,
By fiends in sanctity's disguise,
As Thou wert served with nations slain,
Or pleased with human sacrifice.

Thou know'st Thine own appointed time
The' ungodly homicides to quell,
Chastise their complicated crime,
And break their covenant with hell;
Thy plagues shall then o'erwhelm them all,
From proud ambition's summit driven;
And faith foresees the' usurpers fall
As Lucifer cast down from heaven.

Yet if they have not sinn'd the sin
Which never can obtain Thy grace,
When Tophet yawns to take them in,
And claims them as their proper place,

295

The authors of our woes forgive,
And snatch their souls from endless woes,
Who wouldst that all mankind should live,
Who diedst Thyself to save Thy foes.

HYMN IX. THY KINGDOM COME!

Jesus, supreme in majesty,
Thy kingdom and Thy glory claim,
For every soul, and every knee
Must bow to Thy tremendous name.
Jehovah, on Jehovah's throne,
Fulness of power to Thee is given;
Thou settest up, and castest down,
And orderest all in earth and heaven.

We trace Thy footsteps in the deep,
Who dost in previous judgments come,
And with destruction's besom sweep
The earth, to make Thy kingdom room.
The havoc which on earth we see,
The dire effects of human will,
Accomplish Thy unknown decree,
Thy own mysterious mind fulfil.

Thou sufferest now the evil done,
Where the rebellious multitude
In the New World rush madly on,
O'er hills of slain, through seas of blood:
Their rage for power, their fury blind
Hastens the coming of our Lord;
The good supreme for man design'd,
With paradise on earth restored.

296

Whate'er the plagues that intervene,
The judgments, and vindictive days,
Saviour, we know the final scene,
The earth renew'd in righteousness,
Descending on Thine azure throne,
Thee in the clouds we soon shall see,
To reign before Thy saints alone,
And then through all eternity.

University of Virginia Library

I. PART I.

HYMN I. AFTER THE DEFEAT AT THE CHESAPEAK.