 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
|
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
|
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|
| CLXVI. |
| CLXVII. |
|
| CLXXI. |
| CLXXII. |
| CLXXIII. |
| CLXXIV. |
| CLXXV. |
| CLXXVI. |
| CLXXVII. |
| CLXXVIII. |
| CLXXIX. |
| CLXXX. |
| CLXXXI. |
| CLXXXII. |
| CLXXXIII. |
| CLXXXIV. |
| CLXXXV. |
| CLXXXVI. |
| CLXXXVII. |
| CLXXXVIII. |
| CLXXXIX. |
| CXC. |
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| CCXLVI. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
DESIRING CHRIST.
Where shall I lay my weary head?
Where shall I hide me from my shame?
From all I feel, and all I dread,
And all I have, and all I am!
Swift to outstrip the stormy wind,
And leave this cursed self behind.
Where shall I hide me from my shame?
From all I feel, and all I dread,
And all I have, and all I am!
Swift to outstrip the stormy wind,
And leave this cursed self behind.
O the intolerable load
Of nature, waken'd to pursue
The footsteps of a distant God,
Till faith hath form'd the soul anew!
'Tis death, 'tis more than death to bear—
I cannot live, till God is here.
Of nature, waken'd to pursue
The footsteps of a distant God,
Till faith hath form'd the soul anew!
'Tis death, 'tis more than death to bear—
I cannot live, till God is here.
262
Give me Thy wings, celestial Dove,
And help me from myself to fly;
Then shall my soul far off remove,
The tempest's idle rage defy,
From sin, from sorrow, and from strife
Escaped, and hid in Christ, my Life.
And help me from myself to fly;
Then shall my soul far off remove,
The tempest's idle rage defy,
From sin, from sorrow, and from strife
Escaped, and hid in Christ, my Life.
Stranger on earth, I sojourn here:
Yet, O, on earth I cannot rest,
Till Thou, my hidden Life, appear,
And sweetly take me to Thy breast:
To Thee my wishes all aspire,
And sighs for Thee my whole desire.
Yet, O, on earth I cannot rest,
Till Thou, my hidden Life, appear,
And sweetly take me to Thy breast:
To Thee my wishes all aspire,
And sighs for Thee my whole desire.
Search and try out my panting heart:
Surely, my Lord, it pants for Thee,
Jealous lest earth should claim a part:
Thine, wholly Thine, I gasp to be.
Thou know'st 'tis all I live to prove;
Thou know'st I only want Thy love.
Surely, my Lord, it pants for Thee,
Jealous lest earth should claim a part:
Thine, wholly Thine, I gasp to be.
Thou know'st 'tis all I live to prove;
Thou know'st I only want Thy love.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |