Return unto the Lord thy God.@Deuteronomy 30:2
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Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Charles Wesley, Hymns and Sacred Poems 1749.

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

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. 225-6

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Dmitri S. Bortniansky (1752-1825)

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.