The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Where is my God, my joy, my hope,
The dear Desire of nations, where?
Jesus, to Thee my soul looks up,
To Thee directs her morning prayer,
And spreads her arms of faith abroad,
To' embrace my hope, my joy, my God.

Mine eyes prevent the morning ray,
Looking, and longing for Thy word:
Come, O my Jesus, come away,
And let my heart receive its Lord;
Which pants, and struggles to be free,
And breaks to be detain'd from Thee.

Appear in me, bright Morning Star,
And scatter all the shades of night;
I saw Thee once, and came from far;
But quickly lost Thy transient light;
And now again in darkness pine,
Till Thou throughout my nature shine.

In patient hope I now give heed
To the sure word of promised grace,
Whose rays a feeble lustre shed,
Faint glimmering through the darksome place,
Till Thou Thy glorious light impart,
And rise, the Day-Star, in my heart.

Come, Lord, be manifested here,
And all the devil's works destroy,
Now without sin in me appear,
And fill with everlasting joy;
Thy beatific face display;
Thy presence is the perfect day.

University of Virginia Library

CXVI. THE SAME. FOR THE MORNING.

Hymn 4.