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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
65
IT IS MINE OWN INFIRMITY.
Psalm lxxvii. 10. [P. B. V.]
Have mercy, Lord, Thy wrath remove,
Nor let Thy judgments weigh me down:
I cannot live without Thy love,
I cannot stand beneath Thy frown.
Nor let Thy judgments weigh me down:
I cannot live without Thy love,
I cannot stand beneath Thy frown.
Wilt Thou not once Thy face display,
And dart a ray of heavenly light?
Still must I urge my cheerless way,
And mourn throughout my long-lived night?
And dart a ray of heavenly light?
Still must I urge my cheerless way,
And mourn throughout my long-lived night?
Lo! in my prayer I ever mourn,
Vext with the sad remains of sin,
Broken, and bruised, and rack'd and torn,
How shall I bear this hell within?
Vext with the sad remains of sin,
Broken, and bruised, and rack'd and torn,
How shall I bear this hell within?
This unbelief, these cruel fears,
Distracting doubts, and torturing pain?
While Thou art silent at my tears;
Thou seest them ever flow in vain.
Distracting doubts, and torturing pain?
While Thou art silent at my tears;
Thou seest them ever flow in vain.
And must I yield to black despair?
In vain on Thee for mercy call,
Tempted above what I can bear?
And wilt Thou suffer me to fall?
In vain on Thee for mercy call,
Tempted above what I can bear?
And wilt Thou suffer me to fall?
Never again disclose Thy face,
Or show me the atoning blood?
Have I exhausted all Thy grace?
Hath God forgotten to be good?
Or show me the atoning blood?
Have I exhausted all Thy grace?
Hath God forgotten to be good?
For ever is Thy mercy gone,
Thy truth, and faithfulness, and love?
Doth angry Justice rule alone?
Have I no Advocate above?
Thy truth, and faithfulness, and love?
Doth angry Justice rule alone?
Have I no Advocate above?
66
Then pour Thy vengeance on my head,
And quench the smoking flax in me;
Break (if Thou canst) a bruised reed,
And cast me out who come to Thee.
And quench the smoking flax in me;
Break (if Thou canst) a bruised reed,
And cast me out who come to Thee.
Jesu, I come my doom to meet,
A sinner whom Thou wilt not spare:
But I will perish at Thy feet,
The first that ever perish'd there.
A sinner whom Thou wilt not spare:
But I will perish at Thy feet,
The first that ever perish'd there.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |