The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Thou hast a great deliverance wrought,
The staff from off my shoulder broke,
Out of the house of bondage brought,
And freed me from the' Egyptian yoke.

Thine outstretch'd arm was bared for me,
For me by earth and hell pursued;
Thy outstretch'd arm through the Red Sea
Brought, and baptized me in Thy blood.

O'er the vast howling wilderness
To Canaan's bounds Thou hast me led;
Thou bidd'st me now the land possess,
And on Thy milk and honey feed.

313

I see an open door of hope;
(Legions of sins in vain oppose;)
Bold I with Thee, my Head, march up,
And triumph o'er a world of foes.

Gigantic lusts come forth to fight;
I mark, disdain, and all subdue,
I tread them down in Jesu's might,
Through Jesus I can all things do.

Lo! the tall sons of Anak rise;
Who can the sons of Anak meet?
Captain, to Thee I lift mine eyes;
And lo! they fall beneath my feet.

Passion, and appetite, and pride
(Pride, my old, dreadful, tyrant foe)
I see cast down on every side,
And conquering I to conquer go.

My Lord in my behalf appears:—
Captain, Thy strength-inspiring eye
Scatters my doubts, dispels my fears,
And makes the hosts of aliens fly.

Who can before my Captain stand?
Who is so great a King as mine?
High over all is Thy right hand,
And might and majesty are Thine.

Jesu, my soul takes hold on Thee,
I arm me with Thy Spirit's might;
Humbly assured of victory,
I underneath Thy banner fight.

Thy Spirit lifts the standard up,
When as a flood the foe pours in;
I see the cross, hold fast my hope,
Believe, and more than conquer sin.

314

With holy indignation fill'd,
When by the prince of hell withstood,
Firm I resist; I grasp my shield,
And quench his fiery darts with blood.

Single, a thousand foes I chase,
I turn and blast them with my eyes;
Trembles the world before my face,
Their prince with all his legions flies.

Having done all, by faith I stand,
And give the praise, O Lord, to Thee;
Thine holy arm, Thine own right hand
Hath got Thyself the victory.

Wherefore to Thee my soul I raise,
My soul in Thee securely boasts,
Exults, and glories in Thy praise,
And triumphs in the Lord of Hosts.

Wisdom, and power, and strength, and might
Thou, Lord, art worthy to receive;
Honour and riches are Thy right,
And blessings more than earth can give.

Help us to praise our glorious King,
Ye church of the first-born above;
Let angels and archangels sing
The triumphs of all-conquering love.

Let earth and all her fulness still
Rejoice His greatness to proclaim,
And everlasting praises fill
The heaven of heavens with Jesu's name.

University of Virginia Library

FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH.

[1 Timothy vi. 12.]