| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| 2039. |
| 2040. |
| 2041. |
| 2042. |
| 2043. |
| 2044. |
| 2045. |
| 2046. |
| 2047. |
| 2048. |
| 2049. |
| 2050. |
| 2051. |
| 2052. |
| 2053. |
| 2054. |
| 2055. |
| 2056. |
| 2057. |
| 2058. |
| 2059. |
| 2060. |
| 2061. |
| 2062. |
| 2063. |
| 2064. |
| 2065. |
| 2066. |
| 2067. |
| 2068. |
| 2069. |
| 2070. |
| 2071. |
| 2072. |
| 2073. |
| 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 | ||