 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
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| II. |
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| CLXIX. |
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| CLXXII. |
| CLXXIII. |
| CLXXIV. |
| CLXXV. |
| CLXXVI. |
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| CLXXXIX. |
| CXC. |
| CXCI. |
| CXCII. |
| CXCIII. |
| CXCIV. |
| CXCV. |
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| CC. |
| CCI. |
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| CCVI. |
| CCVII. |
| CCVIII. |
| CCIX. |
| II. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
347
XI.
[And must I sink among the dead]
And must I sink among the dead,
With all my sins upon my head?
Must I to my account be sent,
To suffer endless punishment?
With all my sins upon my head?
Must I to my account be sent,
To suffer endless punishment?
Shall I my innocence declare,
Arraign'd at God's tremendous bar?
Or plead in His all-searching sight
My ignorance of wrong and right?
Arraign'd at God's tremendous bar?
Or plead in His all-searching sight
My ignorance of wrong and right?
Have I not known the Master's will,
Who plainly saith, “Thou shalt not steal,
Shalt not commit adultery,
A liar or a murderer be!
Who plainly saith, “Thou shalt not steal,
Shalt not commit adultery,
A liar or a murderer be!
“Thou shalt not take My name in vain;
Shalt not My holy day profane;
Witness untrue thou shalt not bear;
Thou shalt not lust, thou shalt not swear.
Shalt not My holy day profane;
Witness untrue thou shalt not bear;
Thou shalt not lust, thou shalt not swear.
“Obedient to thy parents be,
And reverence just authority;
To idols thou shalt not bow down,
But serve and love thy God alone.”
And reverence just authority;
To idols thou shalt not bow down,
But serve and love thy God alone.”
All these I from my youth have broke,
Have desperately cast off the yoke,
Harden'd my heart, destroy'd my soul,
And made my sinful measure full.
Have desperately cast off the yoke,
Harden'd my heart, destroy'd my soul,
And made my sinful measure full.
What shall I do my doom to shun,
Or how from swift damnation run?
Is there a mansion in the skies,
Or room for thieves, in paradise?
Or how from swift damnation run?
Is there a mansion in the skies,
Or room for thieves, in paradise?
No thief He saith shall enter in,
No soul unholy or unclean,
No infidel to heaven shall go,
But find his dreadful place below.
No soul unholy or unclean,
348
But find his dreadful place below.
God without faith I cannot please,
Nor see Him without holiness;
But devils cursed by wrath Divine
Can boast a better faith than mine!
Nor see Him without holiness;
But devils cursed by wrath Divine
Can boast a better faith than mine!
Devils believe, and tremble too;
But I who own His saying true,
“The wicked shall be turn'd to hell,”
No fear, and no compunction feel.
But I who own His saying true,
“The wicked shall be turn'd to hell,”
No fear, and no compunction feel.
Past feeling through habitual sin,
My conscience sear'd for years has been;
Obdurate still my heart remains,
Nor shrinks at everlasting pains.
My conscience sear'd for years has been;
Obdurate still my heart remains,
Nor shrinks at everlasting pains.
Hopeless, I must for ever die,
But He who pass'd the angels by
Beheld mankind with pitying look,
And on Himself our nature took.
But He who pass'd the angels by
Beheld mankind with pitying look,
And on Himself our nature took.
He bow'd the heavens, He left His throne,
He laid for all the ransom down.
See there! He hangs on yonder tree!
He bows His head, and dies—for me!
He laid for all the ransom down.
See there! He hangs on yonder tree!
He bows His head, and dies—for me!
Return'd to heaven, again He lives,
To harden'd thieves repentance gives,
In penitents His grace reveals,
And pardon on their conscience seals.
To harden'd thieves repentance gives,
In penitents His grace reveals,
And pardon on their conscience seals.
Turn then, my Lord, my God unknown,
Whom with my parting breath I own;
In death the kind conviction dart,
And cast a look, and break my heart.
Whom with my parting breath I own;
In death the kind conviction dart,
And cast a look, and break my heart.
349
A day's a thousand years to Thee,
Cut short Thy gracious work in me,
And let me, swept from earth, remove
The captive of Thy dying love.
Cut short Thy gracious work in me,
And let me, swept from earth, remove
The captive of Thy dying love.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |