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VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
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II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
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VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
LI. |
LII. |
LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
LXVI. |
LXVII. |
LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXX. |
LXXXIV. |
LXXXV. |
LXXXVI. |
XC. |
XCI. |
XCIII. |
XCIV. |
XCVII. |
XCVIII. |
C. |
CII. |
CIII. |
CIV. |
CVII. |
CXIV. |
CXVI. |
CXVII. |
CXVIII. |
CXIX. |
CXX. |
CXXI. |
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CXXIII. |
CXXIV. |
CXXV. |
CXXVI. |
CXXVII. |
CXXVIII. |
CXXIX. |
CXXX. |
CXXXI. |
CXXXII. |
CXXXIII. |
CXXXIV. |
CXXXVII. |
CXXXVIII. |
CXL. |
CXLII. |
CXLIII. |
CXLVI. |
CL. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
1303.
[I want the weeping prophet's heart]
Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes, &c.
—ix. 1.
I want the weeping prophet's heart:
O might my Lord to me impart
That bleeding sympathy!
On me, Thou Man of Griefs, bestow
The spring of tears, the depth of woe,
The love that was in Thee.
O might my Lord to me impart
That bleeding sympathy!
On me, Thou Man of Griefs, bestow
The spring of tears, the depth of woe,
The love that was in Thee.
I would our desolate Sion mourn
By vile intestine vipers torn,
By endless tempests toss'd,
A Babel of religious strife,
Buried in forms, whose power and life
Of godliness is lost.
By vile intestine vipers torn,
By endless tempests toss'd,
A Babel of religious strife,
Buried in forms, whose power and life
Of godliness is lost.
Or if Thou hast a few restored,
Yet strangers to their bleeding Lord
The multitude remain,
Dead to a God they never knew,
People, and priests, and princes too
Yet strangers to their bleeding Lord
The multitude remain,
Dead to a God they never knew,
People, and priests, and princes too
19
For these I would in secret grieve,
Their burden all day long receive,
For these incessant pray,
And many a mournful vigil keep,
Water my couch with tears, and weep
My pensive life away.
Their burden all day long receive,
For these incessant pray,
And many a mournful vigil keep,
Water my couch with tears, and weep
My pensive life away.
Only regard my dying cries,
And bid the ruin'd Church arise
Which more than life I love,
Call all her sons out of their grave,
And this whole house of Israel save
To sing Thy praise above.
And bid the ruin'd Church arise
Which more than life I love,
Call all her sons out of their grave,
And this whole house of Israel save
To sing Thy praise above.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||