Long have I seem’d to serve Thee, Lord,

With unavailing pain;

Fasted, and pray’d, and read Thy word,

And heard it preach’d, in vain.

Oft did I with the assembly join,

And near Thine altar drew;

A form of godliness was mine,

The power I never knew.

To please Thee thus (at last I see)

In vain I hoped and strove:

For what are outward things to Thee,

Unless they spring from love?

I see the perfect law requires

Truth in the inward parts,

Our full consent, our whole desires,

Our undivided hearts.

But I of means have made my boast,

Of means an idol made;

The spirit in the letter lost,

The substance in the shade.

I rested in the outward law,

Nor knew its deep design;

The length and breadth I never saw,

And height of love Divine.

Where am I now, or what my hope?

What can my weakness do?

JESU, to Thee my soul looks up,

’Tis Thou must make it new.

Thine is the work, and Thine alone—

But shall I idly stand?

Shall I the written Rule disown,

And slight my God’s command?

Wildly shall I from Thine turn back,

A better path to find;

Thy holy ordinance forsake,

And cast Thy words behind?

Forbid it, gracious Lord, that I

Should ever learn Thee so!

No—let me with Thy word comply,

If I Thy love would know.

Suffice for me, that Thou, my Lord,

Hast bid me fast and pray:

Thy will be done, Thy name adored;

’Tis only mine to obey.

Thou bidd’st me search the Sacred Leaves,

And taste the hallow’d Bread:

The kind commands my soul receives,

And longs on Thee to feed.

Still for Thy lovingkindness, Lord,

I in Thy temple wait;

I look to find Thee in Thy word,

Or at Thy table meet.

Here, in Thine own appointed ways,

I wait to learn Thy will:

Silent I stand before Thy face,

And hear Thee say, “Be still!”

“Be still—and know that I am God!”

’Tis all I live to know;

To feel the virtue of Thy blood,

And spread its praise below.

I wait my vigour to renew,

Thine image to retrieve,

The veil of outward things pass through,

And gasp in Thee to live.

I work, and own the labour vain;

And thus from works I cease:

I strive, and see my fruitless pain,

Till God create my peace.

Fruitless, till Thou Thyself impart,

Must all my efforts prove:

They cannot change a sinful heart,

They cannot purchase love.

I do the thing Thy laws enjoin,

And then the strife give o’er:

To Thee I then the whole resign:

I trust in means no more.

I trust in Him who stands between

The Father’s wrath and me:

JESU! Thou great eternal Mean,

I look for all from Thee.

Thy mercy pleads, Thy truth requires,

Thy promise calls Thee down!

Not for the sake of my desires—

But, O! regard Thine own!

I seek no motive out of Thee:

Thine own desires fulfil;

If now Thy bowels yearn on me,

On me perform Thy will.

Doom, if Thou canst, to endless pains,

And drive me from Thy face:

But if Thy stronger love constrains,

Let me be saved by grace.⁸⁰⁸⁰See Wesley’s Works, vol. 8, pp.405, 435, 436, for his answer to an objection taken to these words. But in the MS. corrections before me they are expunged; probably lest they should give rise to further misapprehension. If it was needful to remind a learned clergyman that they did “not suppose” that Christ could drive the sinner from His face, “but the reverse,” and were “in reality one of the strongest forms of obtestation,” others might more easily mistake their meaning.