I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
476. |
477. |
478. |
479. |
480. |
481. |
482. |
483. |
484. |
485. |
486. |
487. |
488. |
489. |
490. |
491. |
492. |
493. |
494. |
495. |
496. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XVII. |
XXVIII. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
404
LXIII. THE SAME.
Hymn 13.
O my God, no longer mine!
I have cast off His yoke,
Broke through all the threats Divine,
Through all the mercies broke:
I have turn'd to sin again,
The sin that claims me for its own;
Sin, and shame, and guilt, and pain,
And hell, and I are one.
I have cast off His yoke,
Broke through all the threats Divine,
Through all the mercies broke:
I have turn'd to sin again,
The sin that claims me for its own;
Sin, and shame, and guilt, and pain,
And hell, and I are one.
Where is now my strife and care
And vows from sin to fly?
Where the answer of that prayer,
“O rather let me die!
Let me quit this wretched life,
And die, that I may sin no more”?—
I have sinn'd, and all my strife,
And all my hope is o'er.
And vows from sin to fly?
Where the answer of that prayer,
“O rather let me die!
Let me quit this wretched life,
And die, that I may sin no more”?—
I have sinn'd, and all my strife,
And all my hope is o'er.
Would to God, that I had died,
Ere I the deed had done,
Mock'd afresh, and crucified,
And trampled on His Son!
All in vain I wish, and pray,
It is, and cannot but have been:
Who can call back yesterday,
Or nullify my sin?
Ere I the deed had done,
Mock'd afresh, and crucified,
And trampled on His Son!
All in vain I wish, and pray,
It is, and cannot but have been:
Who can call back yesterday,
Or nullify my sin?
With a diamond's point it stands
Engraven on my heart,
Wrote by mine, and Satan's hands,
It mocks the' eraser's art:
Deep as hell's foundations driven
Into my soul the marks remain:
Is there dew in that fair heaven
To purge so foul a stain?
Engraven on my heart,
Wrote by mine, and Satan's hands,
It mocks the' eraser's art:
Deep as hell's foundations driven
Into my soul the marks remain:
Is there dew in that fair heaven
To purge so foul a stain?
405
Dare I lift again mine eyes,
And ask the' atoning God,
What His speaking blood replies,
His sin expurging blood!
Is it all Thy blood can cleanse,
And melt so foul an heart of stone?
Mercy's whole omnipotence
May here be fully shown.
And ask the' atoning God,
What His speaking blood replies,
His sin expurging blood!
Is it all Thy blood can cleanse,
And melt so foul an heart of stone?
Mercy's whole omnipotence
May here be fully shown.
Me if Thou canst still restore,
Now, Lord, my doom repeal,
Bid me stand as heretofore,
As I had never fell:
If such power be in Thy blood,
Now, now repeat my sins forgiven,
Draw me through the cleansing flood,
And snatch me up to heaven.
Now, Lord, my doom repeal,
Bid me stand as heretofore,
As I had never fell:
If such power be in Thy blood,
Now, now repeat my sins forgiven,
Draw me through the cleansing flood,
And snatch me up to heaven.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||