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I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VI. |
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. |
CXXII. |
CXXIII. |
CXXIV. |
CXXV. |
CXXVI. |
CXXVII. |
CXXVIII. |
CXXIX. |
CXXX. |
CXXXI. |
CXXXII. |
CXXXIII. |
CXXXIV. |
CXXXVII. |
CXXXVIII. |
CXL. |
CXLII. |
CXLIII. |
CXLVI. |
CL. |
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![]() | IX. |
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![]() | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ![]() |
ANOTHER.
[O death, my hope is full of thee]
O death, my hope is full of thee,
Thou art my immortality,
My longing heart's desire;
The mention of thy lovely name
Kindles within my breast a flame,
And sets me all on fire.
Thou art my immortality,
My longing heart's desire;
The mention of thy lovely name
Kindles within my breast a flame,
And sets me all on fire.
Extend thy arms, and take me in,
Weary of life, and self, and sin;
Be thou my balm, my ease:
I languish till thy face appears;
No longer now the king of fears,
Thou art all loveliness.
Weary of life, and self, and sin;
Be thou my balm, my ease:
I languish till thy face appears;
No longer now the king of fears,
Thou art all loveliness.
I gasp to end my wretched days,
To rush into thy cold embrace,
And there securely rest;
Come, O thou friend of sorrows, come,
Lead to the chambers of the tomb,
And lull me on thy breast.
To rush into thy cold embrace,
And there securely rest;
Come, O thou friend of sorrows, come,
Lead to the chambers of the tomb,
And lull me on thy breast.
I feel that thou hast lost thy sting;
My dying Saviour and my King
Bore all my sins for me;
He tasted death, and made it sweet,
From thee, the eater, brought forth meat,
Eternal life from thee.
My dying Saviour and my King
Bore all my sins for me;
He tasted death, and made it sweet,
From thee, the eater, brought forth meat,
Eternal life from thee.
164
This earth, I know, is not my place;
O that I now might end my race,
And leave a world of sin!
Receive, dear Lord, my parting breath:
Thou, Jesus, hast the keys of death;
Open, and take me in!
O that I now might end my race,
And leave a world of sin!
Receive, dear Lord, my parting breath:
Thou, Jesus, hast the keys of death;
Open, and take me in!
![]() | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ![]() |