I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
2003. |
2004. |
2005. |
2006. |
2007. |
2008. |
2009. |
2010. |
2011. |
2012. |
2013. |
2014. |
2015. |
2016. |
2017. |
2018. |
2019. |
2020. |
2021. |
2022. |
2023. |
2024. |
2025. |
2026. |
2027. |
2028. |
2029. |
2030. |
2031. |
2032. |
2033. |
2034. |
2035. |
2036. |
2037. |
2038. |
XIII. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
ANOTHER.
[Soothing, soul-composing thought!]
Soothing, soul-composing thought!
I shall soon my haven gain,
Out of mind, and clean forgot,
Far from trouble, far from pain;
Of my quiet grave possest,
I shall be with those that rest.
I shall soon my haven gain,
Out of mind, and clean forgot,
Far from trouble, far from pain;
Of my quiet grave possest,
I shall be with those that rest.
Let me on the image dwell,
Glory o'er my mouldering clay:
Feeble limbs, ye soon shall fail,
Life shall shortly pass away,
I shall yield my wretched breath,
Sink into the dust of death.
Glory o'er my mouldering clay:
Feeble limbs, ye soon shall fail,
Life shall shortly pass away,
I shall yield my wretched breath,
Sink into the dust of death.
Swift as air my moments fly,
Less and less the destined store;
Time, like me, makes haste to die,
Time and sin shall be no more;
Sin shall here its period have,
Time be buried in my grave.
Less and less the destined store;
Time, like me, makes haste to die,
Time and sin shall be no more;
Sin shall here its period have,
Time be buried in my grave.
Drooping soul, rejoice, rejoice,
Here thou hast not long to stay;
Listen for the Bridegroom's voice,
Rise, my love, and come away;
Hasten to thy Lord above,
Rise, and come away, my love.
Here thou hast not long to stay;
Listen for the Bridegroom's voice,
Rise, my love, and come away;
Hasten to thy Lord above,
Rise, and come away, my love.
163
Lo! I at Thy summons come,
This frail tabernacle leave;
Thou art my eternal home,
Now, O Lord, my soul receive,
Take me to Thy loving breast,
Take me to Thy heavenly rest.
This frail tabernacle leave;
Thou art my eternal home,
Now, O Lord, my soul receive,
Take me to Thy loving breast,
Take me to Thy heavenly rest.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||