The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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!

University of Virginia Library

ANOTHER.

[O death, my hope is full of thee]