The Cyber Hymnal ‎#16259

16259. O all-aton­ing Lamb

1 O all-aton­ing Lamb,
O Sav­ior of man­kind,
If ev­ery soul may in Thy name
With me sal­va­tion find;
If Thou hast chos­en me,
To tes­ti­fy Thy grace
(That vast un­fa­thom­able sea
Which co­vers all our race):

2 Equip me for the war,
And teach my hands to fight,
My sim­ple up­right heart pre­pare,
And guide my words aright!
Control my ev­ery thought,
My whole of self re­move;
Let all my works in Thee be wrought,
Let all be wrought in love.

3 O arm me with the mind,
Meek Lamb, that was in Thee,
And let my know­ing zeal be joined
To fer­vent cha­ri­ty:
With calm and tem­pered zeal
Let me en­force Thy call,
And vin­di­cate Thy gra­cious will,
Which of­fers life to all.

4 O! do not let me trust
In any arm but Thine,
Humble, O hum­ble to the dust
This stub­born soul of mine;
Cast all my reeds aside,
Captivate ev­ery thought,
And drain me of my strength and pride,
And bring me down to naught.

5 Thou dost not stand in need
Of me to prop Thy cause,
T’assert Thy ge­ner­al grace, or spread
The vic­to­ry of Thy cross;
A fee­ble thing of naught
With hum­ble shame I own;
The help which up­on Earth is wrought
Thou dost it all alone.

6 Little, and base, and mean,
And vile in mine own eyes,
A lump of mi­se­ry and sin
At Thy com­mand I rise;
I rise at Thy com­mand,
I an­swer to Thy call,
A wit­ness of Thy grace I stand,
Thy grace which is for all.

7 O may I love like Thee,
And in Thy foot­steps tread!
Thou hat­est all ini­qui­ty,
But no­thing Thou hast made;
O may I learn Thy art
With meek­ness to re­prove,
To hate the sin with all my heart,
But still the sin­ner love.

8 Increase (if that can be)
The per­fect hate I feel
To Sa­tan’s Hor­ri­ble De­cree,
That ge­nu­ine child of Hell;
Which feigns Thee to pass by
The most of Ad­am’s race,
And leave them in their blood to die,
Shut out from sav­ing grace.

9 To most, as de­vils teach,
(Get thee be­hind me, Fiend!)
To most Thy mer­cies ne­ver reach,
Whose mer­cies ne­ver end:
"Millions of souls Thy will
Delighted to or­dain
Inevitable death to feel,
And ev­er­last­ing pain."

10 In vain Thy writ­ten Word
The hell­ish tale gain­says,
Bids all re­ceive their com­mon Lord,
And of­fers all Thy grace:
Prophets, apos­tles join,
And saints and an­gels call;
And Christ at­tests the love di­vine,
That sent Him down for all.

11 Yet still, alas! there are
Who give their God the lie,
The Sav­ior of the world they dare
With all His truths de­ny;
A monstrous two-fold will
To God the Just they give,
“His secret one ordained to kill,
Whom His declared bids live.

12 "The God of truth commands
All sinners to repent,
And mocks the work of His own hands,
By what He never meant:
Commands them to believe
An un­avail­ing lie,
Him for their Savior to receive,
For them who did not die."

13 Loving to every man,
Of tenderest pity full,
Did God the Good, the Just, ordain
To damn one helpless soul?
"He did! the Just, the Good,"
(Hell answers from beneath)
"Spite of His Word, His oath, He would;
He wills the sinner’s death."

14 Like as a Father feels
His suffering children’s care,
In God such kind compassion dwells,
For all His offs­pring are:
"He loves His little ones,"
(As Satan speaks) “so well,
To dash their brains against the stones,
And shut them up in Hell.

15 "He gives them damning grace
To raise their torments higher,
And makes His shrieking children pass
To Moloch through the fire;
He doomed their souls to death
From all eternity,"
This is that wisdom from beneath,
That Horrible Decree!

16 My soul it harrows up,
It freezes all my blood,
My tingling ears I fain would stop
Against their hellish god.
Constrained, alas! to hear
His re­pro­bat­ing roar,
And see him horribly appear
All stained with human gore.

17 ’Tis thus, Thou loving Lamb,
Thy creatures picture Thee;
I blush to own my nature’s shame,
That nature is in me;
But let it not remain,
The dire reproach efface;
Arise, O God, Thy truth maintain,
Thy all-redeeming grace.

18 Defend Thy mercy’s cause:
Men have blasphemed their God,
Thrown down the altar of Thy cross,
And trampled on Thy blood;
Thy truth and righteousness
Their impious schemes disprove
And rob Thee of Thy favorite grace;
Thine universal love.

19 Ah! foolish souls, and blind!
If your report be true,
If mercy is not unconfined,
What mercy were for you!
Who all His truth blaspheme,
Who all His grace deny;
Fury, ye worms, is not in Him,
Or He would you pass by.

20 Jesus, forgive the wrong,
But O! Thy foes restrain,
Silence the lewd, opprobrious tongue,
That scourges Thee again:
They put Thee, Lord, to shame,
Again to death pursue;
Yet O forgive them, gentle Lamb,
They know not what they do.

21 Some men of simple heart
The Devil’s tale believe,
Beguiled by the old Serpent’s art,
His saying they receive:
For fear of robbing Thee
They rob Thee of Thy grace,
And (O good God) to prove it free,
Damn almost all the race.

22 Pity their simpleness,
O Savior of mankind,
Scatter the clouds of smoke that press
Their weak, bewildered mind;
The other Gospel chase
To Hell from whence it came;
And let them taste Thy general grace,
And let them know Thy name.

23 O all-redeeming Lord,
Our common friend and head,
Thine everlasting Gospel word
In their behalf we plead!
If they have drank their bane,
Do Thou the death remove,
The venomous thing drive out again
By universal love.

24 Let it not plunge their soul
In all th’extremes of ill,
The fatal mischief, Lord, control,
Nor suffer it to kill;
Thou woudst that none should die,
O bring them back to God;
Thy sovereign antidote apply,
Thine all-atoning blood.

25 Avenge us of our foe,
And crush the Serpent’s head,
Nor longer suffer him to sow
On earth the deadly seed;
The Trampler on Thy grace
Bruise him beneath our feet;
To Hell the old Deceiver chase,
And seal the burning pit.

26 Then shall Thy saints rejoice,
The Song of Moses sing,
With angel choirs lift up their voice,
And praise their heav’nly king.
"Th’Accuser is subdued,
And put to endless shame,
Cast down by the all-cleansing blood
Of the victorious Lamb."

Text Information

• First Line: O all-aton­ing Lamb
• Author: Charles Wesley
• Meter: SMD
• Language: English
• Copyright: Public Domain
• Notes: Alternate tunes: ACCRA by James McGranahan; BEALOTH by Lowell Mason, DIADEMATA by George J. ELvey; VIGLIA by Julian K. Smyth

Tune Information

• Name: GÖTTINGEN
• Composer: Anonymous (before 1890)
• Meter: SMD
• Key: B♭ Major
• Copyright: Public Domain