The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ah! woe is me, constrain'd to dwell
Among the sons of night,
Poor sinners dropping into hell,
Who hate the gospel light;

Wild as the untamed Arabs' race
Who from their Saviour fly,
And trample on His pardoning grace,
And all His threats defy.

Yet here alas! in pain I live,
Where Satan keeps his seat,
And day by day for those I grieve
Who will to sin submit.

With gushing eyes their deeds I see,
Shut up in Sodom I,
And ask, with Him who ransom'd me,
“Why will ye sin, and die?”

Jesus, Redeemer of mankind,
Display Thy saving power,
Thy mercy let these outcasts find,
And know their gracious hour.

Ah! give them, Lord, a longer space,
Nor suddenly consume,
But let them take the proffer'd grace,
And flee the wrath to come.

O wouldst Thou cast a pitying look
(All goodness as Thou art)
Like that which faithless Peter's broke,
Or my obdurate heart.

Who Thee beneath their feet have trod,
And crucified afresh,
Touch with Thine all-victorious blood,
And turn the stone to flesh.

Open their eyes and ears, to see
Thy cross, to hear Thy cries:
Sinner, thy Saviour weeps for thee,
For thee He weeps, and dies.

All the day long He meekly stands
His rebels to receive,
And shows His wounds, and spreads His hands,
And bids you turn and live.

Turn, and your sins of deepest dye
He will with blood efface,
Even now He waits His blood to' apply;
Be saved, be saved by grace.

Be saved from hell, from sin, and fear:
He speaks you now forgiven;
Walk before God, be perfect here,
And then come up to heaven.