| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
VI.
[Why should I live another day]
Why should I live another day
Without my Saviour's love?
O take this heart of stone away,
This mountain-sin remove:
Whate'er retards Thy faithful word,
And keeps me still unbless'd,
A stranger to my pardoning Lord,
My soul's eternal Rest.
Without my Saviour's love?
O take this heart of stone away,
This mountain-sin remove:
Whate'er retards Thy faithful word,
And keeps me still unbless'd,
A stranger to my pardoning Lord,
My soul's eternal Rest.
What can the' Omnipotent withstand,
Or cross Thy sovereign will?
Thy own desire, Thy own command,
Jesus, in me fulfil;
Who didst a Man of grief appear,
Who hast for sinners died,
The end of all Thy sufferings here
See, and be satisfied.
Or cross Thy sovereign will?
Thy own desire, Thy own command,
Jesus, in me fulfil;
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Who hast for sinners died,
The end of all Thy sufferings here
See, and be satisfied.
Appear as crucified for me,
The purchase of Thy blood;
To get Thyself the victory,
Come, O my Lord, my God;
To make Thy depths of mercy known
Thy Spirit now impart,
And break by Thy expiring groan,
And take my broken heart.
The purchase of Thy blood;
To get Thyself the victory,
Come, O my Lord, my God;
To make Thy depths of mercy known
Thy Spirit now impart,
And break by Thy expiring groan,
And take my broken heart.
It must, alas! continue whole
Till I my Saviour see,
As pouring out His spotless soul,
As dying on the tree:
That piteous spectacle alone
My flinty heart can move,
And turn to flesh the soften'd stone,
And melt me into love.
Till I my Saviour see,
As pouring out His spotless soul,
As dying on the tree:
That piteous spectacle alone
My flinty heart can move,
And turn to flesh the soften'd stone,
And melt me into love.
Come then, Thou slaughter'd Lamb Divine,
Thy bleeding wounds display,
And seize to-day this heart of mine
While it is call'd to-day:
A time to Thee I would not set,
Yet at Thy cross I bow,
Restless, resign'd, Thy coming wait,
And long to meet Thee now.
Thy bleeding wounds display,
And seize to-day this heart of mine
While it is call'd to-day:
A time to Thee I would not set,
Yet at Thy cross I bow,
Restless, resign'd, Thy coming wait,
And long to meet Thee now.
Thou art not slack to keep Thy word,
O help my unbelief,
Make haste to help Thy servant, Lord,
And end my sin and grief;
This moment, if Thy time is come,
Inspire the heavenly grace,
And take my loving spirit home
To see Thy blissful face.
O help my unbelief,
Make haste to help Thy servant, Lord,
And end my sin and grief;
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Inspire the heavenly grace,
And take my loving spirit home
To see Thy blissful face.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||