The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Wesley, Charles (1707-1788)

VOLUME I.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

SHORT HYMNS ON SELECT PASSAGES OF THE Holy Scriptures.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

[ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND]

LVI. ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

Hymn 13.

Farewell thou once a sinner,
My poor afflicted friend!
Thy Lord, thy faith's Beginner,
Is now its glorious End!

217

The Author of thy being
Hath summon'd thee away,
And faith is lost in seeing,
And night in endless day.

Thy days of pain and mourning,
Thy punishment is past,
And to thy God returning
Thy soul is saved at last:
Saved from a world of evils,
With Jesus Christ shut in,
Beyond the range of devils,
Beyond the reach of sin.

No more o'erwhelm'd with terrors,
Or rack'd with doubts thou art,
No more the' Almighty's arrows
Transfix thy bleeding heart:
No more thy wounded spirit
Faints under its full load,
Or cries, What man can bear it,
The heavy wrath of God!

The waves and storms of passion
Are all pass'd o'er thy head,
From trouble and temptation
Thou livest for ever freed:
No loss of friends shall grieve thee,
While all thy Eden share;
They cannot, cannot leave thee,
Thy kind companions there.

With those that went before thee,
The saints of ancient days,
Who shine in sacred story,
Thy soul hath found its place:

218

Acquainted with their sadness,
While in the weeping vale,
Thou sharest now their gladness,
And joys that never fail.

Thine earthly course is ended,
Thou hast obtain'd the prize,
Triumphantly ascended
To God in paradise:
From all thy care and sorrow
Thou art escaped to-day—
And I shall mount to-morrow,
And I shall soar away.

Jesus, my hope of glory,
I owe it to Thy grace,
That I shall soon adore Thee,
And see Thee face to face:
Fulfil my expectation,
And O! to take me home,
With all Thy great salvation,
This happy moment come!

LVII. ANOTHER.

Hymn 14.

[While angel choirs their harps employ]

While angel choirs their harps employ,
Strung with everlasting joy,
A stranger to receive,
Our joy with sorrow mix'd we find,
The widow'd friends he left behind,
And innocently grieve.

Stripp'd of her choicest blessing here,
Nature drops a blameless tear,
From all impatience kept:

219

Calm we bewail our friend removed,
As Jesus mourn'd for His beloved;
He died; and Jesus wept!

Our loss we solemnly deplore,
Not like men who hope no more
Their ravish'd friend to see,
Sure to o'ertake his parted soul,
In grief, in death, our hope is full
Of immortality.

Superior to ourselves we rise,
Struggle after to the skies,
And antedate the day,
When coming in the clouds we shall
The Judge of quick and dead with all
His glorious saints survey.

Amidst that bright ethereal train
We shall find our friend again,
Distinguish'd in the throng;
Our spirits shall his spirit know,
And sing with all we loved below
The Lamb's eternal song.