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The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
841.
[Art Thou not at leisure now]
Art Thou not at leisure now,
My sin-sick soul to heal?
Jesus, at Thy feet I bow,
Till I Thy virtue feel:
God a time I dare not set,
Or teach Thee when Thou must relieve:
Only see me at Thy feet,
And as Thou wilt, forgive.
My sin-sick soul to heal?
Jesus, at Thy feet I bow,
Till I Thy virtue feel:
God a time I dare not set,
Or teach Thee when Thou must relieve:
Only see me at Thy feet,
And as Thou wilt, forgive.
Still I for Thy coming stay,
My spirit to restore;
Take this evil heart away,
By love's abiding power:
When Thou wilt Thyself reveal,
And make my full salvation sure,
In mine inmost essence dwell,
My soul's eternal cure.
My spirit to restore;
Take this evil heart away,
By love's abiding power:
When Thou wilt Thyself reveal,
And make my full salvation sure,
In mine inmost essence dwell,
My soul's eternal cure.
Now through faith divinely strong,
Who in Thy strength confide,
Though Thou seem to tarry long,
Thy leisure I abide.
Thee I still expect to cheer,
'Stablish, and fill my heart with grace,
Then, almighty Finisher,
I see Thee face to face.
Who in Thy strength confide,
Though Thou seem to tarry long,
Thy leisure I abide.
Thee I still expect to cheer,
'Stablish, and fill my heart with grace,
Then, almighty Finisher,
I see Thee face to face.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||