The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Terrible God, severely just,
Inexorable Judge of all,
A sinner cleaving to the dust,
And looking for a deeper fall,
Thy awful justice I confess,
And glorify Thy righteousness.

Righteous in all Thy ways Thou art;
Long didst Thou strive my soul to win:
Though harden'd now I feel my heart
Through the deceitfulness of sin,
I clear Thee in my latest groan;
O God, my death is all my own.

Ten thousand thousand times restored,
Still into fouler sins I fell,
Trod under foot my bleeding Lord,
And labour'd to ensure my hell;
How couldst Thou still defer my fate?
How couldst Thou give me up so late?

I might have seen in that my day
The things belonging to my peace;
But would not let Thy Spirit stay,
But forced His striving love to cease:
I forced Him to withdraw His light,
And take His everlasting flight.

Most justly then my day is past,
Mercy no more remains for me;
Thy Spirit grieved and quench'd at last,
With senseless unconcern I see
The measure of my sin fill'd up,
Shipwreck'd my faith, extinct my hope.

No cloak for mine offence have I;
I calmly sin against the light,
Deliberately resolve to die,
And sink into eternal night:
The day is past, the strife is o'er,
I will accept of grace no more.

My hands hang down, my feeble knees
Refuse to bear the sinful clay,
My ineffectual strivings cease,
I fall a final castaway;
I fall, and own my God is just,
No longer mine—for all is lost!

Lost, and undone, and damn'd am I,—
But whence this unavailing tear,
This struggling, faint, imperfect sigh?
Can aught of good be harbour'd here?
O no! it cannot, cannot be;
Mercy no more remains for me.

Away, ye dreams of future rest!
Why am I tempted to look up?
What means this struggling in my breast?
My flinty breast must never hope:
Yet kindled my relentings are,
And check'd I feel my just despair.

But is it possible that I
Remorse or hope again should know?
If mercy's fountain is not dry
To me, its streams eternal flow;
If grace to me doth still abound,
Then Judas might have pardon found.

If yet again my Lord returns,
And will not with His purchase part;
If over me His Spirit mourns,
And works upon my stony heart;
None out of hell need now despair,
A viler devil is not there!

If after all my waste of love,
(Enough ten thousand worlds to save,)
I still am call'd His grace to prove,
And may in Him redemption have,
Sinners, ye all with me must own
The day of grace and life is one.

God of unfathomable grace,
Vouchsafe Thy benefits to crown;
Most fallen of the fallen race,
To me, of sinners chief, come down;
A worse did ne'er Thy Spirit grieve,
A worse Thou never canst forgive.

Since first with Adam's sons He strove
To bring the' apostates back to God,
The Spirit of Thy grace and love
Never, no never yet subdued
A more rebellious worm than me,
Or gain'd an harder victory.

Then save me for Thy mercy's sake,
And give, O give me to Thy Son,
That I to all mankind may make
The riches of Thy mercy known,
Thy everlasting love proclaim,
And grace for all in Jesu's name.

University of Virginia Library

HYMN I.

[Terrible God, severely just]