| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| I. |
| 1141. |
| 1142. |
| 1143. |
| 1144. |
| 1145. |
| 1146. |
| 1147. |
| 1148. |
| 1149. |
| 1150. |
| 1151. |
| 1152. |
| 1153. |
| 1154. |
| 1155. |
| 1156. |
| 1157. |
| 1158. |
| 1159. |
| 1160. |
| 1161. |
| 1162. |
| 1163. |
| 1164. |
| 1165. |
| 1166. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
3163.
[We that are Christ's, have crucified]
They that are Christ's have crucified the, &c.
—v. 24.
We that are Christ's, have crucified
The flesh, the rebel man within,
Passion, and appetite, and pride,
And all the brood of inbred sin;
The Adam old (the selfish love)
By faith we nail'd him to the tree,
From whence he never shall remove,
But bleed to death, O Lord, with Thee.
The flesh, the rebel man within,
Passion, and appetite, and pride,
And all the brood of inbred sin;
67
By faith we nail'd him to the tree,
From whence he never shall remove,
But bleed to death, O Lord, with Thee.
In vain for a reprieve he cries,
And groans, and struggles to be freed;
In vain his subtlest art he tries,
And feigns himself already dead:
To make us boast the conflict o'er,
He seems to gasp his latest breath,
And stirs in novices no more,
And dies at once a sudden death.
And groans, and struggles to be freed;
In vain his subtlest art he tries,
And feigns himself already dead:
To make us boast the conflict o'er,
He seems to gasp his latest breath,
And stirs in novices no more,
And dies at once a sudden death.
But taught of God, we surely know,
The man of desperate wickedness
Shall weaker still and weaker grow,
And lingering die by slow degrees;
The Adam old, we dare believe,
Shall hang with Christ transfix'd and fast,
A thousand mortal wounds receive,
Till perfect grace inflict the last.
The man of desperate wickedness
Shall weaker still and weaker grow,
And lingering die by slow degrees;
The Adam old, we dare believe,
Shall hang with Christ transfix'd and fast,
A thousand mortal wounds receive,
Till perfect grace inflict the last.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||