Verse 1
Peace, flutt’ring soul! The storm is o’er,
Ended at last the doubtful[1] strife:
Respiring now, the cause explore
That bound thee to a wretched life.

Verse 2
When on the margin of the grave,
Why did I doubt my Saviour’s art?
Ah! Why mistrust his will to save?
What meant that fault’ring of my heart?

Verse 3
’Twas not the searching pain within
That fill’d my coward flesh with fear;
Nor conscience of uncancel’d[2] sin;
Nor sense of dissolution near.

Verse 4
Of hope I felt no joyful ground,
The fruit of righteousness alone;
Naked of Christ my soul I found,
And started from a God unknown.

Verse 5
Corrupt my will, nor half subdu’d,
Could I his purer presence bear?
Unchang’d, unhallow’d, unrenew’d
Could I before his face appear?

Verse 6
Father of mercies, hear my call!
Ere yet returns the fatal hour,
Repair my loss, retrieve my fall,
And raise me by thy quick’ning pow’r.

Verse 7
My nature re-exchange for thine;
Be thou my life, my hope, my gain;
Arm me in panoply divine,
And death shall shake his dart in vain.

Verse 8
When I thy promis’d Christ have seen,
And clasp’d him in my soul’s embrace,
Possest of my salvation, then—
Then, let me, Lord, depart in peace!

[1] Wesley changed “doubtful” to “doubtless” in 1739.
[2] Wesley changed “conscience of uncancel’d” to “conciousness of outward” to 1743.