The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
749.
[Yes; though Thou fill my flesh with pain]
God exacteth of thee less than thine iniquity deserveth.
—xi. 6.
Yes; though Thou fill my flesh with pain,
With bitterness my cup,
And let me in my sins remain,
To fill the measure up;
242
Whate'er on earth I feel,
And less than my deserts I bear,
Who am not yet in hell.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||