 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
 | XI. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| 1684. |
| 1685. |
| 1686. |
| 1687. |
| 1688. |
| 1689. |
| 1690. |
| 1691. |
| 1692. |
| 1693. |
| 1694. |
| 1695. |
| 1696. |
| 1697. |
| 1698. |
| 1699. |
| 1700. |
| 1701. |
| 1702. |
| 1703. |
| 1704. |
| 1705. |
| 1706. |
| 1707. |
| 1708. |
| 1709. |
| 1710. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
 | CHAPTER XIV. The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
1414.
[Jesus, Thou dost the sinner see]
There was a certain man . . . which had the, &c.
—xiv. 2–4.
Jesus, Thou dost the sinner see,
Thy mercy meets my misery
Preventing my request;
Unask'd Thou dost Thy blessings give,
Thy heart inclines Thee to receive
And succour the distress'd.
Thy mercy meets my misery
Preventing my request;
Unask'd Thou dost Thy blessings give,
Thy heart inclines Thee to receive
And succour the distress'd.
Present before Thy pitying eyes
To Thee my soul for help applies
In nature's sore disease:
This thirst of pleasure, wealth, and fame
Indulgence doth but more inflame,
And make my plague increase.
To Thee my soul for help applies
In nature's sore disease:
This thirst of pleasure, wealth, and fame
Indulgence doth but more inflame,
And make my plague increase.
Swollen with concupiscence and pride,
I cannot heal, I cannot hide
The dropsy of my soul;
Unless Thou all Thy love reveal
The cause out of my heart to' expel,
I never shall be whole.
I cannot heal, I cannot hide
The dropsy of my soul;
Unless Thou all Thy love reveal
The cause out of my heart to' expel,
I never shall be whole.
Thy hand medicinal extend,
To make my sins and sufferings end
Apply Thy sovereign grace:
Dry up in me corruption's flood,
And all my lust of creature good,
And all my thirst of praise.
To make my sins and sufferings end
Apply Thy sovereign grace:
Dry up in me corruption's flood,
And all my lust of creature good,
And all my thirst of praise.
Faith to be heal'd even now I feel,
I trust that balm infallible
Which Thy own Spirit applies:
Thy love omnipotent display,
And send me throughly heal'd away
From earth to paradise.
I trust that balm infallible
Which Thy own Spirit applies:
Thy love omnipotent display,
And send me throughly heal'd away
From earth to paradise.
| CHAPTER XIV. The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |