Verse 1
Ah! My dear Lord, whose changeless love
To me, nor earth nor hell can part;
When shall my feet forget to rove?
Ah, what shall fix this faithless heart?
Verse 2
Why do these cares my soul divide
If thou indeed hast set me free?
Why am I thus, if God hath dy’d;
If God hath dy’d to purchase[1] me?
Verse 3
Around me clouds of darkness roll,
In deepest night I still walk on;
Heavily moves my fainting soul,
My comfort and my God are gone.
Verse 4
Chearless and all forlorn I droop;
In vain I lift my weary eye;
No gleam of light, no ray of hope
Appears throughout the darken’d sky.
Verse 5
My feeble knees I bend again,
My drooping hands again I rear:
Vain is the task, the effort vain,
My heart abhors the irksome pray’r.
Verse 6 Oft with thy saints my voice I raise,
And seem to join the tastless song:
Faintly ascends th’ imperfect praise,
Or dies upon my thoughtless tongue.
Verse 7
Cold, weary, languid, heartless, dead
To thy dread courts I oft repair;
By conscience drag’d, or custom led
I come; nor know that God is there!
Verse 8
Nigh with my lips to thee I draw,
Unconscious at thy altar found;
Far off my heart: nor touch’d with awe,
Nor mov’d—tho’ angels tremble round.
Verse 9
In all I do, myself I feel,
And groan beneath the wonted load,
Still unrenew’d and carnal still,
Naked of Christ, and void of God.
Verse 10
Nor yet the earthly Adam dies,
But lives, and moves, and fights again,
Still the fierce gusts of passion rise,
And rebel nature strives to reign.
Verse 11
Fondly my foolish heart essays
T’ augment the source of perfect bliss,
Love’s all-sufficient sea to raise
With drops of creature-happiness.
Verse 12
O love! Thy sov’reign aid impart,
And guard the gifts thyself hast giv’n:
My portion thou, my treasure art,
And life, and happiness, and heav’n.
Verse 13
Would ought with thee my wishes share,
Tho’ dear as life the idol be,
The idol from my breast I’ll tear,
Resolv’d to seek my all from thee.
Verse 14
Whate’er I fondly counted mine,
To thee, my Lord, I here restore:
Gladly I all for thee resign:
Give me thyself, I ask no more!
[1] Wesley changed “purchase” to “ransom” in 1743.