John & Charles Wesley · 227 of 258

Universal Redemption

Father, whose hand on all bestows Sufficiency of saving grace; Whose universal love o’erflows The whole of Adam’s fallen race;

Within no narrow bounds confined, The vast, unfathomable sea Swells, and embraces all mankind;— For, O my God, it reach’d to me!

If I could hear Thy quickening call, Then all may seek, and find Thee too; Surely Thou loving art to all, And I stand forth to prove it true.

Was there a man Thou doom’st to die, How justly then might I despair! For who so vile a wretch as I? For who so bold his God to dare?

Was there a single soul decreed Thy unrelenting hate to know, Then I were he—and well might dread The horrors of eternal woe.

But, O, in vain the tempter tries To shake the Rock that ne’er shall move; My steadfast soul His power defies, Secure in this, that God is love.

Whoe’er admits; my soul disowns The image of a torturing God, Well-pleased with human shrieks and groans, A fiend, a Molock gorged with blood!

Good God! that any child of Thine So horribly should think of Thee! Lo! all my hopes I here resign, If all may not find grace with me.

If fury can in Thee have place, Empty it on my helpless head; Cut off, exclude me from Thy grace, Unless for all the Saviour bled.

If all may not Thy mercy claim, On me the vengeful bolt let fall; Take back my interest in the Lamb, Unless the Victim died for all.