![]() | I. |
![]() | II. |
![]() | III. |
![]() | IV. |
![]() | V. |
![]() | VI. |
![]() | VII. |
![]() | VIII. |
![]() | IX. |
![]() | X. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() | I. |
![]() | II. |
![]() | III. |
![]() | IV. |
![]() | V. |
![]() | VI. |
![]() | VII. |
![]() | VIII. |
![]() | IX. |
![]() | X. |
![]() | XI. |
![]() | XII. |
![]() | XIII. |
![]() | XIV. |
![]() | XV. |
![]() | XVI. |
![]() | XVII. |
![]() | XVIII. |
![]() | XIX. |
![]() | XX. |
![]() | XXI. |
![]() | XXII. |
![]() | XXIII. |
![]() | XXIV. |
![]() | XXV. |
617. |
618. |
619. |
620. |
621. |
622. |
623. |
624. |
625. |
626. |
627. |
628. |
629. |
630. |
631. |
632. |
633. |
634. |
635. |
636. |
637. |
638. |
639. |
640. |
641. |
642. |
643. |
644. |
645. |
646. |
647. |
648. |
649. |
650. |
651. |
652. |
653. |
654. |
655. |
656. |
657. |
![]() | XXVI. |
![]() | XVII. |
![]() | XXVIII. |
![]() |
![]() | XI. |
![]() | XII. |
![]() | XIII. |
![]() | 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 | ![]() |