The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Weary, why should I farther go,
Or seek a resting-place below
With vain anxiety?
Without the presence of my Lord,
This earth can no repose afford,
Or glimpse of joy for me.

Weeping where'er mine eye I turn,
Fresh cause to weep, lament, and mourn
Mine eye with horror sees;
Nothing but sin and pain appears
In all the dreary vale of tears,
The frightful wilderness.

My paradise is lost and gone,
Distress'd, disconsolate, alone,
A banish'd man I rove,
I faint beneath my nature's load,
An alien from the life of God,
A stranger to His love.

What then is change of place to me?
The end of sin and misery,
In every place is nigh;

135

No spot of earth but yields a grave:
Where'er He wills, if Jesus save,
I lay me down and die.

CXII.

[O that I first of love possess'd]

O that I first of love possess'd,
With my Redeemer's presence bless'd,
Might His salvation see!
Before Thou dost my soul require,
Allow me, Lord, my heart's desire,
And show Thyself to me.

Appear my Sanctuary from sin,
Open Thine arms to take me in,
By Thy own presence hide,
Hide in the place where Moses stood,
And show me now the face of God,
My Father pacified.

What but Thy manifested grace
Can guilt, and fear, and sorrow chase,
The cause of grief destroy?
Thy mercy brings salvation sure,
Makes all my heart and nature pure,
And fills with hallow'd joy.

Come quickly, Lord, the veil remove,
Pass as a God of pardoning love
Before my ravish'd eyes:
And when I in Thy person see
Jehovah's glorious majesty,
I find my paradise.

136

Then, then my wandering toil is o'er,
Restless I sigh and pine no more
For local happiness;
Confident in Thy blood applied,
Mine inmost soul is satisfied
With everlasting peace.

Then, then where'er Thy will below
Assign my lot, with Thee I go
A happy man forgiven:
I know my God is reconciled,
Regain my Eden in the wild,
And glide from earth to heaven.

CXIII.

[The Son of man supplies]

The Son of man supplies
My every outward need,
Who had not, when He left the skies,
A place to lay His head:
He will provide my place,
And in due season show
Where I shall pass my few sad days
Of pilgrimage below.

No matter where or how
I in this desert live,
If, when my dying head I bow,
Jesus my soul receive:
Bless'd with Thy precious love,
Saviour, 'tis all my care
To reach the purchased house above,
And find a mansion there.

137

A house with hands not made
Hast Thou not bought for me?
The full stupendous price was paid
In blood on yonder tree!
But ere Thou call me hence,
Lord, with Thyself impart
The pledge of mine inheritance,
And fill my loving heart.

An heir of endless bliss
Now in a tent I dwell,
Till Thou my spotless soul dismiss
To joys unspeakable,
Till Thou in that glad day
Make all Thy glories known,
And to the heavenly house convey,
And bid me share Thy throne.

CXIV.

[Jesus, my faithful Guide]

Jesus, my faithful Guide,
For Thy advice I stay,
Who wilt not let me wander wide
Of Thy appointed way:
Till Thou reveal Thy will,
In calm uncertainty
I know not what to do, but still
Mine eyes are fix'd on Thee.

Till Thou direction send,
Delightfully resign'd
I mark the openings, and attend
The tokens of Thy mind;

138

What Thou wouldst have me do
By plainest signs to prove
I wait; and step by step pursue
The leadings of Thy love.

Saviour, I would not take
One step in life, alone,
Or dare the smallest motion make
Without Thy counsel known:
Thee I my Lord confess,
In everything I see,
And Thou by Thine unerring grace
Shalt order all for me.

Surely Thou wilt provide
The place Thou know'st I need,
The solitary place to hide
Thy hoary servant's head;
Where a few moments more,
Expecting my release,
I may my father's God adore,
And then depart in peace.

CXV.

[What matters it to me]

What matters it to me,
When a few days are past,
Where I shall end my misery,
Where I shall breathe my last?
The meanest house or cot
The hoary hairs may screen
Of one who would be clean forgot,
And live and die unseen.

139

Exposed I long have been
In this bleak vale of tears,
Midst scenes of vanity and sin
Consumed my threescore years:
I turn my face aside,
Sick of beholding more,
And wish the latest storm to' outride,
And reach the happy shore.

As dead already here,
Without desire or hope,
Till from this earth I disappear,
I give the creature up,
In temporal despair
Contentedly abide,
And in my flesh the tokens bear
Of Jesus crucified.

A prisoner of the Lord,
Where He appoints I wait,
In age to be renew'd, restored
To my unsinning state,
My only want I feel
Jesus my peace to know,
In Him to live, in Him to dwell,
And die to all below.

Jesus, my hope, my rest,
This load of sin remove,
Thy name, Thy nature manifest
In purity and love:

140

And when in knowing Thee
The heavenly life I live,
Set my imprison'd spirit free,
And to Thyself receive.

CXVI.

[Giver of every useful gift]

Giver of every useful gift,
My thankful heart to Thee I lift,
Who hast a cottage given
To lodge a poor wayfaring man,
Till I my long-sought country gain,
And find my house in heaven.

Indulged with an obscure retreat,
Ah, never leave me to forget
That this is not my home;
A sojourner and stranger still,
I suffer and perform Thy will,
Till my Redeemer come.

I seek not my repose below,
If, long a man of strife and woe,
I to the desert fly:
If Thou a moment's respite give,
Thou know'st I come not here to live,
I only come to die.

Author of godly sorrow, meet,
And suffer me to kiss Thy feet,
And bathe them with my tears,
My sins, though pardon'd, to bewail,
Till Thou release me from the vale,
And life in death appears.

141

The broken, contrite spirit give,
And lo, I come to weep and grieve,
And long for my remove;
I gasp to breathe my native air,
When once enabled to declare
Thou know'st that Thee I love.

Ah, take me, Saviour, at my word,
Pronounce me now to peace restored,
To purity of heart,
Snatch from this soothing solitude
My soul in spotless love renew'd,
And bid me now depart.

University of Virginia Library

ON GOING TO A NEW HABITATION.

CXI.

[Weary, why should I farther go]