Lord, I Despair

Lord, I despair myself to heal:

I see my sin, but cannot feel;

I cannot, till thy Spirit blow,

And bid the obedient waters flow.

 

‘Tis thine a heart of flesh to give,

Thy gifts I only can receive;

Here then to thee I all resign;

To draw, redeem, and seal, is thine.

 

With simple faith on thee I call,

My light, my life, my Lord, my all:

I wait the moving of the pool,

I wait the word that speaks me whole.

 

Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure,

Make my infected nature pure;

Peace, righteousness, and joy impart,

And pour thyself into my heart.

 

- Charles Wesley

 

Lift Your Eyes of Faith

 Lift your eyes of faith, and see

Saints and angels joined in one;

What a countless company

Stand before yon dazzling throne!

Each before his Saviour stands,

All in milk-white robes arrayed,

Palms they carry in their hands,

Crowns of glory on their head.

 

Saints begin the endless song,

Cry aloud in heavenly lays,

Glory doth to God belong,

God, the glorious Saviour, praise:

All salvation from him came,

Him, who reigns enthroned on high:

Glory to the bleeding Lamb,

Let the morning stars reply.

 

Angel-powers the throne surround,

Next the saints in glory they;

Lulled with the transporting sound,

They their silent homage pay,

Prostrate on their face before

God and his Messiah fall;

Then in hymns of praise adore,

Shout the Lamb that died for all.

 

Be it so, they all reply,

Him let all our orders praise;

Him that did for sinners die,

Saviour of the favoured race!

Render we our God his right,

Glory, wisdom, thanks, and power,

Honour, majesty, and might;

Praise him, praise him evermore!

 

- Charles Wesley

 

Let Not the Wise His Wisdom Boast

Let not the wise his wisdom boast,

The mighty glory in his might,

The rich in flattering riches trust,

Which take their everlasting flight.

The rush of numerous years bears down

The most gigantic strength of man;

And where is all his wisdom gone,

When dust he turns to dust again.

 

One only gift can justify

The boasting soul that knows his God;

When Jesus doth his blood apply,

I glory in his sprinkled blood.

The Lord my Righteousness I praise;

I triumph in the love divine,

The wisdom, wealth, and strength of grace,

In Christ to endless ages mine.

 

- Charles Wesley

 

Let Earth and Heaven Combine

Let earth and heaven combine,

Angels and men agree,

To praise in songs divine

The incarnate Deity,

Our God contracted to a span,

Incomprehensibly made man.

 

He laid his glory by,

He wrapped him in our clay;

Unmarked by human eye,

The latent Godhead lay;

Infant of days he here became,

And bore the mild Immanuel’s name.

 

Unsearchable the love

That hath the Saviour brought;

The grace is far above

Or man or angels thought;

Suffice for us that God, we know,

Our God, is manifest below.

 

He deigns in flesh to appear,

Widest extremes to join;

To bring our vileness near,

And make us all divine:

And we the life of God shall know,

For God is manifest below.

 

Made perfect first in love,

And sanctified by grace,

We shall from earth remove,

And see his glorious face:

Then shall his love be fully showed,

And man shall then be lost in God.

 

- Charles Wesley

 

Leader of Faithful Souls

Leader of faithful souls, and guide

Of all that travel to the sky,

Come and with us, even us, abide,

Who would on thee alone rely,

On thee alone our spirits stay,

While held in life’s uneven way.

 

Strangers and pilgrims here below,

This earth, we know, is not our place,

And hasten through the vale of woe;

And, restless to behold thy face,

Swift to our heavenly country move,

Our everlasting home above.

 

We have no abiding city here,

But seek a city out of sight;

Thither our steady course we steer,

Aspiring to the plains of light,

Jerusalem, the saints’ abode,

Whose founder is the living God.

 

Patient the appointed race to run,

This weary world we cast behind;

From strength to strength we travel on,

The new Jerusalem to find;

Our labour this, our only aim,

To find the new Jerusalem.

 

Through thee, who all our sins hast borne,

Freely and graciously forgiven,

With songs to Zion we return,

Contending for our native heaven;

That palace of our glorious King,

We find it nearer while we sing.

 

Raised by the breath of love divine,

We urge our way with strength renewed;

The church of the first-born to join,

We travel to the mount of God,

With joy upon our heads arise,

And meet our Captain in the skies.

 

- Charles Wesley