The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

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.

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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

CXVI.

[Giver of every useful gift]