The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Save, Jesus, save! my hour is near
Of sorrow and distress,
And lo, I faint, oppress'd with fear
Of my own helplessness:
My littleness of faith I feel,
And sink o'erwhelm'd again,
Awed by the salutary ill,
The pain-preventing pain.

But ah, Thou know'st a heavier care
Hath all my soul o'erspread,
And pain and death are light to bear
Compared with what I dread:
My life I freely would resign,
And lay this moment down,
Rather than see a child of mine
Eternally undone.

But wilt Thou suffer me to bear
A sad reverse of Thee,
A graceless, miserable heir
Of endless misery;

Expose it to the world's black wild,
And sin's malignant power?
And must I, Lord, bring forth a child
For Satan to devour?

Rather resume the blessings lent,
And stop Thy creature's breath,
And by a temporal prevent
An everlasting death:
Before it draws this tainted air,
My harmless infant slay,
Or let the sad Benoni tear
My bleeding life away.

The keys of death and hell are held
In Thine almighty hand,
And all the powers of nature yield
To Thy supreme command:
Destroy the candidate for light,
Or slay me in its stead,
Childless among the living write,
Or free among the dead.

Or let the sleeping babe remain
In its maternal tomb,
And safe from sin, and safe from pain,
For ever swell the womb;
Till waken'd by the trumpet's sound
We both triumphant rise,
And see our Life with glory crown'd,
And grasp Him in the skies.

University of Virginia Library

XLVI.

[Save, Jesus, save! my hour is near]