The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Mercy, that heaven-descending guest,
Resided in her gentle breast,
And full possession kept;
While listening to the orphan's moan,
And echoing back the widow's groan,
She wept with them that wept.

Affliction, poverty, disease,
Drew out her soul in soft distress
The wretched to relieve:
In all the works of love employ'd,
Her sympathising soul enjoy'd
The blessedness to give.

Her Saviour in His members seen,
A stranger she received Him in,
An hungry Jesus fed,
Tended her sick imprison'd Lord,
And flew in all His wants to' afford
Her ministerial aid.

A nursing mother to the poor,
For them she husbanded her store,
Her life, her all bestow'd:
For them she labour'd day and night,
In doing good her whole delight,
In copying after God.

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But did she then herself conceal
From her own flesh? or kindly feel
Their every want and woe?
'Tis Corban this, she never said,
But dealt alike her sacred bread
To feed both friend and foe.

Free from the busy worldling's cares,
Who gathers riches—for his heirs,
Who hoards what God hath given;
Fast as the Lord her basket bless'd,
Fast as her well-got wealth increased,
She laid it up in heaven.

Witness ye servants of her Lord,
Ye preachers of the joyous word,
Constrain'd with her to' abide:
With Lydia's open house and heart,
Glad of her carnal things to' impart,
She all your wants supplied.

Surely ye judged her faithful then:
And did she not through life remain
Invariably the same?
Her even soul to heaven aspired,
The only mind of Christ desired,
The tempers of the Lamb.

University of Virginia Library

HYMN XXXII.

PART III.

[Mercy, that heaven-descending guest]