I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
CXL. |
CXLI. |
CXLII. |
CXLIII. |
CXLIV. |
CXLV. |
CXLVI. |
CXLVII. |
CXLVIII. |
CXLIX. |
CL. |
CLI. |
CLII. |
CLIII. |
CLIV. |
CLV. |
CLVI. |
CLVII. |
CLVIII. |
CLIX. |
CLX. |
CLXVI. |
CLXVII. |
CLXXI. |
CLXXII. |
CLXXIII. |
CLXXIV. |
CLXXV. |
CLXXVI. |
CLXXVII. |
CLXXVIII. |
CLXXIX. |
CLXXX. |
CLXXXI. |
CLXXXII. |
CLXXXIII. |
CLXXXIV. |
CLXXXV. |
CLXXXVI. |
CLXXXVII. |
CLXXXVIII. |
CLXXXIX. |
CXC. |
CCXLVI. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
HYMN V.
[To the meek and gentle Lamb]
To the meek and gentle Lamb
I pour out my complaint;
Will not hide from Thee my shame,
But tell Thee what I want:
I am full of sin and pride;
I am all unclean, unclean;
Till Thy Spirit here abide,
I cannot cease from sin.
I pour out my complaint;
Will not hide from Thee my shame,
But tell Thee what I want:
I am full of sin and pride;
I am all unclean, unclean;
Till Thy Spirit here abide,
I cannot cease from sin.
Clearly do I see the way,
My foot is on the path;
Now, this instant, now I may
Draw near by simple faith:
Thou art not a distant God,
Thou art still to sinners near;
Every moment, if I would,
My heart might feel Thee near.
My foot is on the path;
Now, this instant, now I may
Draw near by simple faith:
Thou art not a distant God,
Thou art still to sinners near;
Every moment, if I would,
My heart might feel Thee near.
Free as air Thy mercy streams,
Thy universal grace
Shines with undistinguish'd beams
On all the fallen race:
All from Thee a power receive
To reject, or hear, Thy call;
All may choose to die, or live;
Thy grace is free for all.
Thy universal grace
Shines with undistinguish'd beams
On all the fallen race:
All from Thee a power receive
To reject, or hear, Thy call;
All may choose to die, or live;
Thy grace is free for all.
10
All the hindrance is in me:
Thou ready art to save;
But I will not come to Thee,
That I Thy life may have.
Stubborn and rebellious still,
From Thy arms of love I fly:
Yes, I will be lost; I will,
In spite of mercy, die.
Thou ready art to save;
But I will not come to Thee,
That I Thy life may have.
Stubborn and rebellious still,
From Thy arms of love I fly:
Yes, I will be lost; I will,
In spite of mercy, die.
Holy, meek, and gentle Lamb,
With me what canst Thou do?
Though Thou leav'st me as I am,
I own Thee good and true.
Thou wouldst have me life embrace,
Thou for me and all wast slain,
Thou hast offer'd me Thy grace;
'Twas I that made it vain.
With me what canst Thou do?
Though Thou leav'st me as I am,
I own Thee good and true.
Thou wouldst have me life embrace,
Thou for me and all wast slain,
Thou hast offer'd me Thy grace;
'Twas I that made it vain.
O that I might yield at last,
By dying love subdued!
Lord, on Thee my soul is cast,
The purchase of Thy blood:
If Thou wilt the sinner have,
Thou canst work to will in me;
When, and as Thou pleasest, save;
I leave it all to Thee.
By dying love subdued!
Lord, on Thee my soul is cast,
The purchase of Thy blood:
If Thou wilt the sinner have,
Thou canst work to will in me;
When, and as Thou pleasest, save;
I leave it all to Thee.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||