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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
CIV.
[To whom should I in grief complain]
To whom should I in grief complain,
To whom for help in trouble fly?
Nature hath took the' alarm again,
Touch'd is the apple of mine eye,
His danger with my fears return,
And stricken in the child, I mourn.
To whom for help in trouble fly?
Nature hath took the' alarm again,
Touch'd is the apple of mine eye,
His danger with my fears return,
And stricken in the child, I mourn.
Thou God of unexhausted grace,
Thou Father of compassions, hear,
And while I humbly seek Thy face,
Thyself in my behalf appear,
Forgive the sin Thy pity sees,
Forgive, and bid me go in peace.
Thou Father of compassions, hear,
And while I humbly seek Thy face,
Thyself in my behalf appear,
Forgive the sin Thy pity sees,
Forgive, and bid me go in peace.
Why should my faltering tongue disown
The weakness of my fluttering heart?
Thou read'st it in the stifled groan,
The fond regret, the lingering smart;
My fears and flowing sorrows tell
I loved the child, alas, too well!
The weakness of my fluttering heart?
Thou read'st it in the stifled groan,
The fond regret, the lingering smart;
My fears and flowing sorrows tell
I loved the child, alas, too well!
Child of my age so late bestow'd,
So lovely in a father's sight,
So kindly promising for God,
My comfort, joy, and whole delight:
For him I seem'd to live in pain,
And track'd my steps to earth again.
So lovely in a father's sight,
So kindly promising for God,
My comfort, joy, and whole delight:
For him I seem'd to live in pain,
And track'd my steps to earth again.
My sin reluctant I confess;
But how shall I my sin forsake,
Put off a father's tenderness,
Pluck out my eyes, and give him back?
I cannot yield my son to Thee
Till Thou bestow Thine own on me.
But how shall I my sin forsake,
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Pluck out my eyes, and give him back?
I cannot yield my son to Thee
Till Thou bestow Thine own on me.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |