 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
48
LAMENTATIONS.
1367.
[Oft have I unconcern'd pass'd by]
Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?
—i. 12.
Oft have I unconcern'd pass'd by,
Nor stopp'd on Calvary,
So small a thing, that Thou shouldst die,
Or nothing, Lord, to me!
But now I see, the bleeding cross
Is all in all to man,
To me Thy death is life, Thy loss
Is mine eternal gain.
1368.
[Lord, we with awful thanks confess]
Behold, and see if there be any sorrow, &c.
—i. 12.
Lord, we with awful thanks confess,
No sufferings could with Thine compare;
Thy Godhead did not make them less,
It only strengthen'd Thee to bear:
But through Thy mortal agony
What blessings are to sinners given!
The pains of hell gat hold on Thee,
That we might seize the joys of heaven.
1369.
[We should have been doom'd With devils to dwell]
It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not, &c.
—iii. 22.
We
should have been doom'd With devils to dwell,
But are not consumed, But are not in hell!
'Twixt us and the sentence Our Advocate stood,
And gave us repentance, And pleaded His blood.
But are not consumed, But are not in hell!
'Twixt us and the sentence Our Advocate stood,
And gave us repentance, And pleaded His blood.
Unworthy to live, Our Saviour we own,
Ascribe our reprieve To mercy alone;
The boundless compassion Of Jesus we praise,
And all our salvation Expect from His grace.
Ascribe our reprieve To mercy alone;
The boundless compassion Of Jesus we praise,
And all our salvation Expect from His grace.
49
1370.
[His mercies in Jesus renew'd]
The Lord's mercies are new every morning.
—iii. 22, 23.
His mercies in Jesus renew'd
Each morning I wake to adore,
A fountain of infinite good,
A sea without bottom or shore!
My Lord inexpressibly kind,
O when shall I thank Him above,
To Jesus eternally join'd,
Absorb'd in the depths of His love!
1371.
[Jesus, if mine Thou art]
The Lord is my portion, therefore will I hope in Him.
—iii. 24.
Jesus, if mine Thou art,
Mine heritage is sure,
And must, though friends and life depart,
Unchangeable endure;
If on Thy constant love
I can till death rely,
My portion upon earth shall prove
My portion in the sky.
1372.
[Thee I seek, my pardoning Lord]
The Lord is good unto them that wait, &c.
—iii. 25.
Thee I seek, my pardoning Lord,
Waits my longing soul for Thee:
O be mindful of Thy word,
O be merciful to me,
On my heart Thy goodness seal,
Bid me in Thine image rise,
Mounted on Thy holy hill,
Ravish'd thence to paradise.
1373.
[Still I long for His returning]
It is good that a man should both hope, &c.
—iii. 26.
Still I long for His returning,
Languish till His face appears,
Taste the blessedness of mourning,
Melted into gracious tears;
50
Calmly for my Lord I grieve,
Sure at last, the great salvation,
Sure, the Saviour to receive.
1374.
[Good, I feel it is, for me]
It is good for a man that he bear, &c.
—iii. 27–29.
Good, I feel it is, for me,
Chasten'd in my youth to be,
By my heavenly Father's care
Pain and sorrow's yoke to bear:
Thus I gain my heart's desire,
From an evil world retire,
Hide me in the secret shade,
Live, as free among the dead.
Chasten'd in my youth to be,
By my heavenly Father's care
Pain and sorrow's yoke to bear:
Thus I gain my heart's desire,
From an evil world retire,
Hide me in the secret shade,
Live, as free among the dead.
Let the world in eager chase
Pant for pleasure, power, or praise,
Silent and alone I sit,
Fall by turns at Jesu's feet,
Lay my mouth as in the dust,
Find Him merciful and just,
Joyful in affliction prove
All His ways are truth and love!
Pant for pleasure, power, or praise,
Silent and alone I sit,
Fall by turns at Jesu's feet,
Lay my mouth as in the dust,
Find Him merciful and just,
Joyful in affliction prove
All His ways are truth and love!
1375.
[Long an outcast from my Lord]
The Lord will not cast off for ever.
—iii. 31.
Long an outcast from my Lord,
A deep revolter I
On Thy never-failing word
In darkness will rely;
Till Thy favour I retrieve
The promise to myself I take,
Me Thou wilt not always grieve,
Thou wilt not quite forsake.
51
1376.
[For the hiding of Thy face]
But though He cause grief, yet will He have, &c.
—iii. 32.
For the hiding of Thy face
If longer still I mourn,
In the riches of Thy grace
Thou wilt at last return;
I my Lord again shall see,
Thy multitude of mercies prove,
Lose my sin and misery
In depths of dying love.
1377.
[Slowly doth Thine anger rise]
He doth not afflict willingly nor grieve, &c.
—iii. 33.
Slowly doth Thine anger rise
To give Thy creature pain,
Forced to trouble and chastise
A rebel child of man;
But Thy mercy flies apace
A mourner's pardon to restore,
Wipes the sorrow from my face,
And bids me sin no more.
1378.
[Why should a sinful man complain]
Wherefore doth a living man complain, &c.
—iii. 39.
Why should a sinful man complain,
Indulged with a reprieve,
Guilty of death and endless pain,
Yet suffer'd still to live!
I dare not murmur at the rod,
Whate'er on earth I feel,
But praise the mercies of my God,
Which keep me out of hell.
Indulged with a reprieve,
Guilty of death and endless pain,
Yet suffer'd still to live!
I dare not murmur at the rod,
Whate'er on earth I feel,
But praise the mercies of my God,
Which keep me out of hell.
Conscious of what my sins demand,
I bow to my distress,
Adore a Father's gentle hand,
Whose chastisements are grace:
And if I answer the intent
Of His afflicting love,
I'll praise Him for my punishment
In endless songs above.
I bow to my distress,
Adore a Father's gentle hand,
Whose chastisements are grace:
52
Of His afflicting love,
I'll praise Him for my punishment
In endless songs above.
1379.
[Father, I now my sin confess]
The crown is fallen from our head, &c.
—v. 16.
Father, I now my sin confess,
The cause of all my sad distress
Compell'd alas to know;
Spoil'd of my crown by sin I am;
It turns my glory into shame
And everlasting woe.
The cause of all my sad distress
Compell'd alas to know;
Spoil'd of my crown by sin I am;
It turns my glory into shame
And everlasting woe.
I feel the meaning of this pain,
To Thee against myself complain,
My own destroyer I:
Unless Thou take my sin away,
Unless my bosom-foe Thou slay,
I faint, despair, and die.
To Thee against myself complain,
My own destroyer I:
Unless Thou take my sin away,
Unless my bosom-foe Thou slay,
I faint, despair, and die.
O may Thy sweet implanted love
This root of bitterness remove,
This carnal mind destroy;
Renew'd in perfect righteousness
My soul shall then be life and peace
And pure eternal joy.
This root of bitterness remove,
This carnal mind destroy;
Renew'd in perfect righteousness
My soul shall then be life and peace
And pure eternal joy.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |