The Poetical Works of John and Charles Wesley 144The Fifty-Fifth Chapter of Isaiah

Ho ! every one that thirsts, draw nigh:

('Tis God invites the fallen race:)

Mercy and free salvation buy;

Buy wine, and milk, and Gospel grace.

Come to the Living Waters, come!

Sinners, obey your Maker's call;

Return, ye weary wanderers, home,

And find My grace is free for all.

See from the Rock a fountain rise!

For you in healing streams it rolls:

Money ye need not bring, nor price,

Ye labouring, burden'd, sin-sick souls.

Nothing ye in exchange shall give;

Leave all you have and are behind;

Frankly the gift of God receive,

Pardon and peace in Jesus find.

Why seek ye that which is not bread,

Nor can your hungry souls sustain?

On ashes, husks, and air ye feed,

You spend your little all in vain.

In search of empty joys below,

Ye toil with unavailing strife:

Whither, ah! whither would you go?

I have the words of endless life.

Hearken to Me with earnest care,

And freely eat substantial food;

The sweetness of My mercy share,

And taste that I alone am good.

I bid you all My goodness prove,

My promises for all are free:

Come taste the manna of My love,

And let your soul delight in Me.

Your willing ear and heart incline,

My words believingly receive

Quicken'd your soul, by faith Divine,

An everlasting life shall live.

You for My own I then shall take,

Shall surely seal you for My own,

My covenant of mercy make,

And 'stablish it in David's Son.

A faithful Witness of My grace,

Him have I to the people given,

To teach a sinful world My ways,

And lead and train them up for heaven.

Son of My love, behold, to Thee

From all eternity I give

Sinners who to Thy wounds will flee

The soul that chooseth life shall live.

Nations, whom once Thou didst not own,

Thou Thine inheritance shalt call;

Nations who knew not Thee shall run,

And hail the God that died for all.

For I, the holy God and true,

To glorify Thy name have sworn:

And, lo My faithfulness I show,

And, lo to Thee the Gentiles turn.

Seek ye the Lord with timely care,

Ye servants of uncancell'd sin,

While all that seek may find Him near

With open arms to take them in.

His evil let the sinner leave,

In bitterness of spirit mourn,

Death's sentence in himself receive,

And to a gracious God return.

Surely our God will bid him live,

Will with the arms of love embrace;

Freely, abundantly forgive,

And show him all His depths of grace.

For thus the mighty God hath said,

My ways and thoughts ye cannot scan;

Ye cannot, whom My hands have made,

Your Infinite Creator span.

Me will ye mete with reason's line?

Or teach My grace how far to move?

Fathom My mercy's deep design,

My height, and breadth, and length of love?

Far as the heavens that earth surpass,

Far as My throne those nether skies,

My ways of love, and thoughts of grace,

Beyond your low conceptions rise.

For as the snow from heaven comes down,

The first and latter rains distil,

The earth with fruitfulness to crown,

Man's heart with food and joy to fill:

As no return the shower can know,

But falls a thirsty land to cheer,

But executes its charge below,

While plenty decks the smiling year:

So shall the word My lips have spoke

Accomplish that which I ordain;

My word I never will revoke;

My word is not gone forth in vain.

In My redeeming work employ'd,

And sent My pleasure to fulfil,

Vain it shall not return, and void,

But prosper, and perform My will.

With Me is plenteous mercy found,

Redemption free for all to know;

And where your sin doth most abound,

My more abundant grace shall flow.

From guilt and pain ye shall be freed,

From the black dungeon of despair,

Into My heavenly kingdom led,

And reap eternal pleasures there.

All ye that in My word believe

Shall see My love in Jesu's face;

The peace and joy of faith receive,

And triumph in My saving grace.

The trees shall clap their hands and sing,

Mountains and hills their voices raise;

All the new heavens and earth shall ring

With Jesus their Creator's praise.

Where thorns deform'd the barren ground,

Where noisome weeds the soul o'erspread,

There shall the fruits of grace abound,

And second nature lift her head.

The trees of God shall deck the soil,

The plants of righteousness arise;

The Lord shall on His garden smile,

His late-returning paradise.

The earth, in token of His grace,

Shall spread the odour of His fame,

And everlasting trophies raise,

To glorify the Saviour's name.