The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
134
HEBREWS IV. 15.
“We have not an High Priest which cannot be touched
with the feeling of our infirmities,” &c.
O compassionate High-Priest,
Full of truth and grace for me,
Mark the heavings of my breast,
See my sin and misery!
Surely all to Thee is known,
Though Thou dost not yet appear;
Noted is my every groan,
Counted is my every tear.
Full of truth and grace for me,
Mark the heavings of my breast,
See my sin and misery!
Surely all to Thee is known,
Though Thou dost not yet appear;
Noted is my every groan,
Counted is my every tear.
I have not a priest unmoved
With the feeling of my woe,
Who himself was never proved,
Who my sufferings cannot know:
Touch'd most sensibly Thou art
With my soul's infirmities,
Still the Saviour's gentle heart
Doth with sinners sympathise.
With the feeling of my woe,
Who himself was never proved,
Who my sufferings cannot know:
Touch'd most sensibly Thou art
With my soul's infirmities,
Still the Saviour's gentle heart
Doth with sinners sympathise.
Though He now triumphant reigns,
Still, as in His days of flesh,
All His agonies and pains
In our souls He feels afresh:
Though exalted to a throne,
Thou dost in our sorrows share,
Thou hast not forgot Thine own,
Thine own flesh and blood we are.
Still, as in His days of flesh,
All His agonies and pains
In our souls He feels afresh:
Though exalted to a throne,
Thou dost in our sorrows share,
Thou hast not forgot Thine own,
Thine own flesh and blood we are.
Friend of Sinners, in Thy heart,
Tell me, doth there not remain
One unarm'd and tender part,
Sensible of human pain?
Lord, I wait for the reply:
Groan an answer from within;
Tell me, Comforter, that I,
I shall be redeem'd from sin.
Tell me, doth there not remain
One unarm'd and tender part,
Sensible of human pain?
135
Groan an answer from within;
Tell me, Comforter, that I,
I shall be redeem'd from sin.
Hoping against hope, I wait
For redemption in Thy blood;
Help me in my lost estate,
Take away my heavy load.
Save me from this tyranny,
O bring near the joyful hour;
From all sin my spirit free,
All the guilt, and all the power.
For redemption in Thy blood;
Help me in my lost estate,
Take away my heavy load.
Save me from this tyranny,
O bring near the joyful hour;
From all sin my spirit free,
All the guilt, and all the power.
Grant, O grant my last request;
Nothing do I ask beside,
Only give my spirit rest,
Rest from self, and rest from pride:
Bring into Thy perfect peace,
Give me faith to enter in,
Let me with Thy people cease
From my own dead works of sin.
Nothing do I ask beside,
Only give my spirit rest,
Rest from self, and rest from pride:
Bring into Thy perfect peace,
Give me faith to enter in,
Let me with Thy people cease
From my own dead works of sin.
Power I want, a constant power
My own evil to eschew,
Till my heart can sin no more,
Till I am a creature new;
Let me in Thy wounds abide
Till the perfect grace is given;
Give me this, I ask beside
Nothing or in earth or heaven.
My own evil to eschew,
Till my heart can sin no more,
Till I am a creature new;
Let me in Thy wounds abide
Till the perfect grace is given;
Give me this, I ask beside
Nothing or in earth or heaven.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||