Help, Lord, the Busy Foe
Charles Wesley
(1707-1788)

Help, Lord! The busy foe
Is as a flood come in!
Lift up a standard, and o’erthrow
The soul-distracting sin:
This sudden tide of care
Roll back, O God, from me,
Nor let the rapid current bear
My soul away from Thee.

The praying Spirit breathe,
The watching power impart,
From all entanglements beneath
Call off my anxious heart;
My feeble mind sustain,
By worldly thoughts opprest;
Appear, and bid me turn again
To my eternal rest.

Swift to my rescue come,
Thy own this moment seize;
Gather my wandering spirit home,
And keep in perfect peace:
Suffered no more to rove
O’er all the earth abroad,
Arrest the prisoner of thy love,
And shut me up in God.

 

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