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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
FRAILTY.
From the same.
Lord, how in silence I despise
The giddy worldling's snare!
This beauty, riches, honour, toys
Not worth a moment's care.
Hence, painted dust, and gilded clay!
You have no charms for me:
Delusive breath, be far away!
I waste no thought on thee.
The giddy worldling's snare!
This beauty, riches, honour, toys
Not worth a moment's care.
38
You have no charms for me:
Delusive breath, be far away!
I waste no thought on thee.
But when abroad at once I view
Both the world's hosts and Thine!
Those simple, sad, afflicted, few;
These numerous, gay, and fine:
Lost my resolves, my scorn is past,
I boast my strength no more;
A willing slave they bind me fast
With unresisted power.
Both the world's hosts and Thine!
Those simple, sad, afflicted, few;
These numerous, gay, and fine:
Lost my resolves, my scorn is past,
I boast my strength no more;
A willing slave they bind me fast
With unresisted power.
O, brook not this; let not Thy foes
Profane Thy hallow'd shrine:
Thine is my soul, by sacred vows
Of strictest union Thine!
Hear then my just, though late request,
Once more the captive free;
Renew Thy image in my breast,
And claim my heart for Thee.
Profane Thy hallow'd shrine:
Thine is my soul, by sacred vows
Of strictest union Thine!
Hear then my just, though late request,
Once more the captive free;
Renew Thy image in my breast,
And claim my heart for Thee.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |