I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
723. |
724. |
725. |
726. |
727. |
728. |
729. |
730. |
731. |
732. |
733. |
734. |
735. |
736. |
737. |
738. |
739. |
740. |
741. |
742. |
743. |
744. |
745. |
746. |
747. |
748. |
749. |
750. |
751. |
752. |
753. |
754. |
755. |
756. |
757. |
758. |
759. |
760. |
761. |
762. |
763. |
764. |
765. |
766. |
767. |
768. |
769. |
770. |
771. |
772. |
773. |
774. |
775. |
776. |
777. |
778. |
779. |
780. |
781. |
782. |
783. |
784. |
785. |
786. |
787. |
788. |
789. |
790. |
791. |
792. |
793. |
794. |
795. |
796. |
797. |
798. |
799. |
800. |
801. |
802. |
803. |
804. |
805. |
806. |
807. |
808. |
809. |
810. |
811. |
812. |
813. |
814. |
815. |
816. |
817. |
818. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
70.
[A thousand secret checks within]
A thousand secret checks within,
To unacknowledged grace I owe;
A thousand times preserved from sin,
I now my kind Preserver know;
Thou didst support my yielding heart,
Thou didst to good my will incline;
And when I chose the better part,
The virtuous thought was all Divine.
To unacknowledged grace I owe;
A thousand times preserved from sin,
I now my kind Preserver know;
Thou didst support my yielding heart,
Thou didst to good my will incline;
And when I chose the better part,
The virtuous thought was all Divine.
22
I envied oft the swine their meat,
But none the husks of pleasure gave:
Oft by my bosom-sin beset,
Mercy contrived my soul to save:
The grace I trembled to receive,
Escaping from the broken snare;
And scarcely durst my heart believe
That mercy could redeem so far.
But none the husks of pleasure gave:
Oft by my bosom-sin beset,
Mercy contrived my soul to save:
The grace I trembled to receive,
Escaping from the broken snare;
And scarcely durst my heart believe
That mercy could redeem so far.
Still on a precipice I stand,
Or seem on solid waves to tread;
Secure in an Almighty hand,
When raging flames surround my head;
Nigh is my sin, but Thou art nigher,
And while to Thee my soul I give,
I hang in air, I walk in fire,
In death by miracle I live!
Or seem on solid waves to tread;
Secure in an Almighty hand,
When raging flames surround my head;
Nigh is my sin, but Thou art nigher,
And while to Thee my soul I give,
I hang in air, I walk in fire,
In death by miracle I live!
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||