 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
UPON PARTING WITH HIS FRIENDS.
I.
Cease, foolish heart, thy fond complaints,
Nor heave with unavailing sighs;
Equal is God to all thy wants,
The hungry soul Himself supplies.
Gladly thy every wish resign;
Thou canst not want, if God is thine.
Nor heave with unavailing sighs;
Equal is God to all thy wants,
The hungry soul Himself supplies.
Gladly thy every wish resign;
Thou canst not want, if God is thine.
Stop this full current of thy tears,
Or pour for sin the' ennobled flood:
Look up, my soul, shake off thy fears,
Or fear to lose a gracious God:
To Him, thy only rest, return;
In vain for Him thou canst not mourn.
Or pour for sin the' ennobled flood:
Look up, my soul, shake off thy fears,
Or fear to lose a gracious God:
To Him, thy only rest, return;
In vain for Him thou canst not mourn.
Still vex'd and troubled is my heart?
Still wails my soul the penal loss?
Lingering I groan with all to part,
I groan to bear the grievous cross;
The grievous cross I fain would fly,
Or sink beneath its weight, and die.
Still wails my soul the penal loss?
Lingering I groan with all to part,
I groan to bear the grievous cross;
The grievous cross I fain would fly,
Or sink beneath its weight, and die.
Sad soothing thought! to lose my cares,
And silently resign my breath!
Cut off a length of wretched years,
And steal an unsuspected death;
Now to lay down my weary head,
And lift it—free among the dead!
And silently resign my breath!
Cut off a length of wretched years,
And steal an unsuspected death;
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And lift it—free among the dead!
When will the dear deliverance come?
Period of all my pain and strife!
O that my soul, which gasps for home,
Which struggles in the toils of life,
Ease and a resting-place could find,
And leave this world of woe behind!
Period of all my pain and strife!
O that my soul, which gasps for home,
Which struggles in the toils of life,
Ease and a resting-place could find,
And leave this world of woe behind!
O that the bitterness were past,
The pain of life's long lingering hour!
While snatch'd from passion's furious blast,
And saved from sorrow's baleful power,
I mock the storm, outride the wave,
And gain the harbour of the grave.
The pain of life's long lingering hour!
While snatch'd from passion's furious blast,
And saved from sorrow's baleful power,
I mock the storm, outride the wave,
And gain the harbour of the grave.
Bless'd, peaceful state! where, lull'd to sleep,
The sufferer's woes shall all be o'er!
There plaintive grief no more shall weep,
Remembrance there shall vex no more;
Nor fond excess, nor pining care,
Nor loss, nor parting shall be there!
The sufferer's woes shall all be o'er!
There plaintive grief no more shall weep,
Remembrance there shall vex no more;
Nor fond excess, nor pining care,
Nor loss, nor parting shall be there!
II.
O, holy, holy, holy Lord!
Righteous in all Thy ways art Thou!
I yield and tremble at Thy word,
Beneath Thy mighty hand I bow;
I own, while humbled in the dust,
I own the punishment is just.
Righteous in all Thy ways art Thou!
I yield and tremble at Thy word,
Beneath Thy mighty hand I bow;
I own, while humbled in the dust,
I own the punishment is just.
Joy of my eyes the creature was;
Desired;—but, O! desired for Thee!
Why feel I then the' embitter'd loss?
Late, in Thy judgment's light, I see
Whom now Thy stroke hath far removed,
I loved—alas! too dearly loved!
Desired;—but, O! desired for Thee!
Why feel I then the' embitter'd loss?
Late, in Thy judgment's light, I see
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I loved—alas! too dearly loved!
And can I see my comfort gone,
(My all of comfort here below,)
And not allow a parting groan,
And not permit my tears to flow?
Can I forbear to mourn and cry?
No—let me rather weep and die.
(My all of comfort here below,)
And not allow a parting groan,
And not permit my tears to flow?
Can I forbear to mourn and cry?
No—let me rather weep and die.
Dear, lovely, gracious souls, to me
Pleasant your friendliness has been;
So strange your love, from dross so free,
The Fountain in the stream was seen;
From heaven the pure affection flow'd,
And led, from whom it sprang, to God.
Pleasant your friendliness has been;
So strange your love, from dross so free,
The Fountain in the stream was seen;
From heaven the pure affection flow'd,
And led, from whom it sprang, to God.
To Him through earth-born cares ye pass,
To Him your loosen'd souls aspire:
Glory to God's victorious grace!
O, could I catch the sacred fire,
Your shining steps from far pursue,
And love, and weep, and part like you!
To Him your loosen'd souls aspire:
Glory to God's victorious grace!
O, could I catch the sacred fire,
Your shining steps from far pursue,
And love, and weep, and part like you!
Partners of all my griefs and joys,
Help me to cast on God my care,
To make His will my only choice,
Away the dear right eye to tear,
The wise decree with you to' adore,
To trust, submit, and grieve no more.
Help me to cast on God my care,
To make His will my only choice,
Away the dear right eye to tear,
The wise decree with you to' adore,
To trust, submit, and grieve no more.
O, let your prayers the Saviour move,
In love my spirit to renew!
O, could I taste the Saviour's love,
Gladly I then should part with you;
My all triumphantly resign,
And lodge you in the arms Divine.
In love my spirit to renew!
O, could I taste the Saviour's love,
Gladly I then should part with you;
My all triumphantly resign,
And lodge you in the arms Divine.
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III.
Why should a sinful man complain,
When mildly chasten'd for his good?
Start from the salutary pain,
And tremble at a Father's rod?
Why should I grieve His hand to' endure,
Or murmur to accept my cure?
When mildly chasten'd for his good?
Start from the salutary pain,
And tremble at a Father's rod?
Why should I grieve His hand to' endure,
Or murmur to accept my cure?
Beneath the' afflictive stroke I fall,
And struggle to give up my will;
Weeping I own 'tis mercy all;
Mercy pursues and holds me still,
Kindly refuses to depart,
And strongly vindicates my heart.
And struggle to give up my will;
Weeping I own 'tis mercy all;
Mercy pursues and holds me still,
Kindly refuses to depart,
And strongly vindicates my heart.
Humbly I now the rod revere,
And mercy in the judgment find;
'Tis God afflicts; I own Him near;
'Tis He, 'tis He severely kind,
Watches my soul with jealous care,
Disdainful of a rival there.
And mercy in the judgment find;
'Tis God afflicts; I own Him near;
'Tis He, 'tis He severely kind,
Watches my soul with jealous care,
Disdainful of a rival there.
'Tis hence my ravish'd friends I mourn,
And grief weighs down my weary head;
Far from my bleeding bosom torn,
The dear, loved, dangerous joys are fled:
Hence my complaining never ends,—
O! I have lost my friends, my friends!
And grief weighs down my weary head;
Far from my bleeding bosom torn,
The dear, loved, dangerous joys are fled:
Hence my complaining never ends,—
O! I have lost my friends, my friends!
Long my reluctant folly held,
Nor gave them to my God's command;
Hardly at length constrain'd to yield;
For, O! the angel seized my hand,
Broke off my grasp, forbad my stay,
And forced my lingering soul away.
Nor gave them to my God's command;
Hardly at length constrain'd to yield;
For, O! the angel seized my hand,
Broke off my grasp, forbad my stay,
And forced my lingering soul away.
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Yes; the divorce at last is made,
My soul is crush'd beneath the blow;
The judgment falls, so long delay'd,
And lays my stubborn spirit low;
My hope expires, my comfort ends:
O! I have lost my friends, my friends!
My soul is crush'd beneath the blow;
The judgment falls, so long delay'd,
And lays my stubborn spirit low;
My hope expires, my comfort ends:
O! I have lost my friends, my friends!
IV.
How shall I lift my guilty eyes,
Or dare appear before Thy face,—
When, deaf to mercy's loudest cries,
I long have wearied out Thy grace,
Withstood Thy power, and cross'd Thy art,
Nor heard, “My son, give Me thy heart?”
Or dare appear before Thy face,—
When, deaf to mercy's loudest cries,
I long have wearied out Thy grace,
Withstood Thy power, and cross'd Thy art,
Nor heard, “My son, give Me thy heart?”
How could I, Lord, hold out so long,
So long Thy striving Spirit grieve!
Forgive me the despiteful wrong:
Behold, my all for Thee I leave;
The whole, the whole I here restore,
And fondly keep back part no more.
So long Thy striving Spirit grieve!
Forgive me the despiteful wrong:
Behold, my all for Thee I leave;
The whole, the whole I here restore,
And fondly keep back part no more.
Lo! I cut off the dear right hand,
Ashamed I should so late obey;
Pluck out my eye at Thy command,
And cast the bleeding orb away;
Lo, with my last reserve I part,
I give, I give Thee all my heart.
Ashamed I should so late obey;
Pluck out my eye at Thy command,
And cast the bleeding orb away;
Lo, with my last reserve I part,
I give, I give Thee all my heart.
My heart, my will I here resign,
My life, my more than life for Thee:
Take back my friends, no longer mine;
Bless'd be the love that lent them me:
Bless'd be the kind, revoking word;
Thy will be done, Thy name adored!
My life, my more than life for Thee:
Take back my friends, no longer mine;
Bless'd be the love that lent them me:
Bless'd be the kind, revoking word;
Thy will be done, Thy name adored!
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Henceforth Thy only will I choose,
To Christ I die, to Christ I live;
Had I a thousand lives to lose,
Had I a thousand friends to give,
All, all I would to Thee restore,
And grieve that I could give no more.
To Christ I die, to Christ I live;
Had I a thousand lives to lose,
Had I a thousand friends to give,
All, all I would to Thee restore,
And grieve that I could give no more.
V.
Jesus, in whom the weary find
Their late and permanent repose;
Physician of the sin-sick mind,
Relieve my wants, assuage my woes;
And let my soul on Thee be cast,
'Till life's fierce tyranny be past.
Their late and permanent repose;
Physician of the sin-sick mind,
Relieve my wants, assuage my woes;
And let my soul on Thee be cast,
'Till life's fierce tyranny be past.
Loosed from my God, and far removed,
Long have I wander'd to and fro,
O'er earth in endless circles roved,
Nor found whereon to rest below:
Back to my God at last I fly,
For, O! the waters still are high.
Long have I wander'd to and fro,
O'er earth in endless circles roved,
Nor found whereon to rest below:
Back to my God at last I fly,
For, O! the waters still are high.
Selfish pursuits, and nature's maze,
The things of earth, for Thee I leave;
Put forth Thy hand, Thy hand of grace,
Into the ark of love receive;
Take this poor fluttering soul to rest,
And lodge it, Saviour, in Thy breast.
The things of earth, for Thee I leave;
Put forth Thy hand, Thy hand of grace,
Into the ark of love receive;
Take this poor fluttering soul to rest,
And lodge it, Saviour, in Thy breast.
Fill with inviolable peace,
'Stablish, and keep my settled heart;
In Thee may all my wanderings cease,
From Thee no more may I depart,
Thy utmost goodness call'd to prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.
'Stablish, and keep my settled heart;
In Thee may all my wanderings cease,
From Thee no more may I depart,
Thy utmost goodness call'd to prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |