Hymns and Sacred Poems (1749), Hymn 2

"The love of Christ constraineth us." — 2 Cor v. 14.

O WHAT an evil, faithless heart
Have I, so ready to depart
From Thee, the living God!
Not all Thy threats, and judgments move,
Till master'd by Thy stronger love,
It will not hear Thy rod.

The sorest plague Thou hast to send,
Not sin itself my soul can bend,
Or bring my spirit down;
Sin makes me prouder than before,
And blinds, and hardens more and more,
Till all my heart is stone.

My stony heart Thy wrath defies,
And dares against Thy judgments rise,
Self-harden'd from Thy fear;
What canst Thou with Thy rebel do?
Try me by love, and in my view
With all Thy wounds appear.

Ah! who that piteous sight can bear!
Behold the Lamb hangs bleeding there!
There, there! on yonder tree!
Pierced are His feet, His hands, His side!
My Lamb, my Love is crucified!
O God! He dies for me!

For me He meekly bows His head,
He suffers in the sinner's stead,
My ruin to retrieve:
He spreads His arms to take me in,
He sheds His blood to purge my sin;
He dies that I may live.

O Love, by Thee constraint at last,
I yield, I yield; my tears flow fast,
Fast as Thy streaming blood!
Breaks at the sight my heart of stone;
I faint to hear that dying groan,
Why, O my God! my God!—

O God, I can hold out no more,
My heart resents Thy softening power,
My heart is melting wax;
I feel that Thou art love indeed,
Thou wilt not break the bruised reed,
Or quench the smoking flax.

Thou wilt not slight the feeblest grace,
This spark of love Thy breath shall raise,
And kindle to a flame;
And I, who taste how good Thou art,
Shall shortly love with all my heart
My lovely, bleeding Lamb.