A Modern Puritan

Woe to the men on earth who dwell,
Nor dread the Almighty’s frown,
When God doth all His wrath reveal,
And shower His judgments down!

Sinners, expect those heaviest showers,
To meet your God prepare;
For, lo! the seventh angel pours
His phial in the air.

Lo! from their seats the mountains leap,
The mountains are not found;
Transported far into the deep,
And in the ocean drowned.

Who then shall live, and face the throne,
And face the Judge severe?
When heaven and earth are fled and gone,
O where shall I appear?

Now, only now, against that hour
We may a place provide;
Beyond the grave, beyond the power
Of hell, our spirits hide:

Firm in the all destroying shock,
May view the final scene;
For, lo! the everlasting Rock
Is cleft to take us in.

-Charles Wesley, 1750

Come, ye weary sinners, come, all who groan beneath your load,
Jesus calls His wanderers home, hasten to your pardoning God!
Come, ye guilty spirits oppressed, answer to the Savior’s call,
“Come, and I will give you rest. Come, and I will save you all.”

Jesus, full of truth and love, we Thy kindest word obey;
Faithful let Thy mercies prove, take our load of guilt away;
Now we would on Thee rely, cast on Thee our every care,
To Thine arms of mercy fly, find our lasting quiet there.

Burdened with a world of grief, burdened with our sinful load,
Burdened with this unbelief, burdened with the wrath of God;
Lo! we come to Thee for ease, true and gracious as Thou art,
Now our groaning souls release, write forgiveness on our heart.

-Charles Wesley, 1747

He comes! He comes! the Judge severe!
The seventh trumpet speaks Him near;
His lightnings flash, His thunders roll;
How welcome to the faithful soul!

From Heav’n angelic voices sound;
See the almighty Jesus crowned,
Girt with omnipotence and grace!
And glory decks the Savior’s face.

Descending on His great white throne,
He claims the kingdoms for His own;
The kingdoms all obey His Word,
And hail Him their triumphant Lord.

Shout, all the people of the sky,
And all the saints of the Most High;
Our Lord, who now His right obtains,
Forever and forever reigns.

-Charles Wesley, 1758

Glory to God, whose sovereign grace
Hath animated senseless stones;
Called us to stand before His face,
And raised us into Abraham’s sons!

The people that in darkness lay,
In sin and error’s deadly shade,
Have seen a glorious gospel day,
In Jesus’ lovely face displayed.

Thou only, Lord, the work hast done,
And bared Thine arm in all our sight;
Hast made the reprobates Thine own,
And claimed the outcasts as Thy right.

Thy single arm, almighty Lord,
To us the great salvation brought,
Thy Word, Thy all-creating Word,
That spake at first the world from naught.

For this the saints lift up their voice,
And ceaseless praise to Thee is giv’n;
For this the hosts above rejoice,
We raise the happiness of Heav’n.

For this, no longer sons of night,
To Thee our thankful hearts we give;
To Thee, who called us into light,
To Thee we die, to Thee we live.

Suffice that for the season past
Hell’s horrid language filled our tongues,
We all Thy words behind us cast,
And lewdly sang the drunkard’s songs.

But, O the power of grace divine!
In hymns we now our voices raise,
Loudly in strange hosannas join,
And blasphemies are turned to praise!

-Charles Wesley, 1740

Forth in Thy Name, O Lord, I go,
My daily labor to pursue;
Thee, only Thee, resolved to know
In all I think or speak or do.

The task Thy wisdom hath assigned,
O let me cheerfully fulfill;
In all my works Thy presence find,
And prove Thy good and perfect will.

Preserve me from my calling’s snare,
And hide my simple heart above,
Above the thorns of choking care,
The gilded baits of worldly love.

Thee may I set at my right hand,
Whose eyes mine inmost substance see,
And labor on at Thy command,
And offer all my works to Thee.

Give me to bear Thy easy yoke,
And every moment watch and pray,
And still to things eternal look,
And hasten to Thy glorious day.

For Thee delightfully employ
Whate’er Thy bounteous grace hath giv’n;
And run my course with even joy,
And closely walk with Thee to Heav’n.

-Charles Wesley, 1749