Scripture Verse

Return unto the Lord thy God. Deuteronomy 30:2

Introduction

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Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Words: Charles Wes­ley, Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems 1749.

Music: St. Pe­ters­burg at­trib­ut­ed to Dmi­tri S. Bort­ni­an­sky, 1825 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

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Dmitri S. Bortniansky (1752–1825)

Anecdote

The Chap­lain of Glasgow pri­son once found a young woman eight­een or nine­teen stand­ing in her cell with her hymn book in her hand. ‘She looked up, and, hold­ing it out, said to me, This is a hymn which I’m much ta’en up wi’. I read the first two lines, and found my eyes fill­ing with tears as I looked at her and said, Are you wea­ry of wan­der­ing from your God?

The an­swer was Yes, in­deed I am. There­up­on I had the great pr­iv­ilege of deal­ing with an anx­ious soul.

‘Next Sun­day we not on­ly sang the hymn, but I preached spe­cial­ly to wea­ry wan­der­ers. The fol­low­ing day an old man grasped my hand as I en­tered his cell, and in an ear­nest and so­lemn voice said, When the great day comes there will be found a soul among the re­deemed, brought there through that hymn we sang yes­ter­day, for he con­tinued, when you read out, Wea­ry of wan­der­ing from my God, I said, That’s me. I’m wea­ry, and I’m rea­dy to re­turn, and, he add­ed, come back to my God I have.’

Telford, pp. 225–26

Lyrics

Weary of wan­der­ing from my God,
And now made will­ing to re­turn
I hear and bow me to the rod
For thee, not with­out hope, I mourn:
I have an ad­vo­cate above
A friend be­fore the throne of love.

O Je­sus, full of truth and grace
More full of grace than I of sin
Yet once again I seek Thy face:
Open Thine arms and take me in
And free­ly my back­slid­ings heal
And love the faith­less sin­ner still.

Thou know’st the way to bring me back
My fall­en spirit to re­store
O for Thy truth and mer­cy’s sake,
Forgive, and bid me sin no more:
The ru­ins of my soul re­pair
And make my heart a house of pray­er.

The stone to flesh again con­vert,
The veil of sin again re­move;
Sprinkle Thy blood up­on my heart,
And melt it by Thy dy­ing love;
This re­bel heart by love sub­due,
And make it soft, and make it new.

Give to mine eyes re­fresh­ing tears,
And kin­dle my re­lent­ings now;
Fill my whole soul with fi­li­al fears,
To Thy sweet yoke my spi­rit bow;
Bend by Thy grace, O bend or break,
The ir­on si­new in my neck!

Ah! give me, Lord, the ten­der heart
That trem­bles at the ap­proach of sin;
A god­ly fear of sin im­part,
Implant, and root it deep with­in,
That I may dread Thy gra­cious pow­er,
And ne­ver dare to of­fend Thee more.