 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
|
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
|
| CIII. |
| CIV. |
| CV. |
| CVI. |
| CVII. |
| CVIII. |
| CIX. |
| CX. |
| CXI. |
| CXII. |
| CXIII. |
| CXIV. |
| CXV. |
| CXVI. |
| CXVII. |
| CXVIII. |
| CXIX. |
| CXX. |
| CXXI. |
| CXXII. |
|
| CXXV. |
| CXXVI. |
| CXXVII. |
| CXXVIII. |
| CXXIX. |
| CXXX. |
| CXXXI. |
| CXXXII. |
| CXXXIII. |
| CXXXIV. |
| CXXXV. |
| CXXXVI. |
| CXXXVII. |
| CXXXVIII. |
| CXXXIX. |
|
|
| CLXVI. |
| CLXVII. |
|
| CLXXI. |
| CLXXII. |
| CLXXIII. |
| CLXXIV. |
| CLXXV. |
| CLXXVI. |
| CLXXVII. |
| CLXXVIII. |
| CLXXIX. |
| CLXXX. |
| CLXXXI. |
| CLXXXII. |
| CLXXXIII. |
| CLXXXIV. |
| CLXXXV. |
| CLXXXVI. |
| CLXXXVII. |
| CLXXXVIII. |
| CLXXXIX. |
| CXC. |
|
| CCXLVI. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
MY LORD AND MY GOD.
[John xx. 28.]
O thou whom fain my soul would love,
Whom I would gladly die to know,
This veil of unbelief remove,
And show me, all Thy goodness show:
Jesu, Thyself in me reveal,
Tell me Thy name, Thy nature tell.
Whom I would gladly die to know,
This veil of unbelief remove,
And show me, all Thy goodness show:
Jesu, Thyself in me reveal,
Tell me Thy name, Thy nature tell.
Hast Thou been with me, Lord, so long?
Yet Thee, my Lord, have I not known?
I claim Thee with a faltering tongue,
I pray Thee in a feeble groan:
Tell me, O tell me who Thou art,
And speak Thy name into my heart.
Yet Thee, my Lord, have I not known?
I claim Thee with a faltering tongue,
I pray Thee in a feeble groan:
Tell me, O tell me who Thou art,
And speak Thy name into my heart.
167
If now Thou talkest by the way
With such an abject worm as me,
Thy mysteries of grace display,
Open mine eyes that I may see,
That I may understand Thy word,
And now cry out, It is the Lord!
With such an abject worm as me,
Thy mysteries of grace display,
Open mine eyes that I may see,
That I may understand Thy word,
And now cry out, It is the Lord!
I know Him by those prints of love,
His bleeding wounds are open wide;
Through faith I handle Him, and prove,
I thrust my hand into His side,
I feel the sprinkling of His blood:
Jesu, Thou art my Lord, my God!
His bleeding wounds are open wide;
Through faith I handle Him, and prove,
I thrust my hand into His side,
I feel the sprinkling of His blood:
Jesu, Thou art my Lord, my God!
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |