The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

My Father, O my Father, hear
Thy weakest child's imperfect call!
Now as a servant I appear,
And yet Thou know'st me heir of all:
O make me know as I am known;
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Allured by unresisted grace,
Thy footsteps why did I pursue?
Why did I ever seek Thy face?
What secret power my spirit drew
After I knew not whom to run?
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

From whom have all my blessings flow'd?
Who gave me these enlarged desires?
Who made me restless after God,
And burnt me up with inward fires?

204

O let the Author now be shown,
Speak, Father; am I not Thy Son?

Who held my fleeting soul in life,
And turn'd aside the fatal hour?
Who, when I oft gave o'er the strife,
Preserved me from the adverse power,
Removed the death I would not shun?
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

When twice ten thousand times I fell,
Who was it raised the sinner up,
The sinner sinking into hell?
How came I by this spark of hope?
Who quicken'd me, a lifeless stone?
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

If Thou didst see me in my blood,
And bid the dying sinner live,
If freely I am counted good,
O let me all Thy life receive,
O do not leave Thy work undone:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Led through the howling wilderness,
If now I view the promised land,
Here let my weary wanderings cease;
Divide the waves with Thy right hand,
Bid me through Jordan's stream go on:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Or if in my forlorn estate
Thy will appoints me to remain,
Behold me still content to wait
In doubt and fear, in grief and pain;

205

Only, when all my hope is gone,
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Alas! I know not how to pray,
But all my wants are known to Thee;
Father, instruct me what to say,
Or intercede Thyself for me:
Then hearken to Thy Spirit's groan:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

If now the bowels of Thy love
Yearn over such a worm as me,
Send down Thy Spirit from above,
And make me clean, and set me free;
The promised Comforter send down:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

If now Thou knockest at my heart,
Now open to Thyself the door;
The gift unspeakable impart,
The kingdom to my soul restore;
Call home, call home Thy banish'd one:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Hast Thou not made me willing, Lord?
Do I not now my sins confess?
Be just and faithful to Thy word,
Cleanse me from all unrighteousness;
Finish the work Thou hast begun:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Hath not my Saviour died to make
The child of wrath a child of God?
Hast Thou not pardon'd for His sake
The soul for which He shed His blood?

206

And died He not for me to' atone?
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

I cannot rest, till pure within:
Though He hath wash'd away my stain
Removed the guilt and power of sin,
Yet while the carnal mind remains
I still must make my ceaseless moan:
Speak, Father; am I not Thy son?

Or if my endless groans and sighs
Thy kind compassion cannot move,
Be deaf to all my prayers and cries,
But hear my Advocate above,
Hear Him who pleads before Thy throne,—
“Speak, Father; is he not Thy son?”

University of Virginia Library

IN DOUBT.