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| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
For Mourners.
IX.
[Waiting for the Comforter]
Waiting for the Comforter,
Hungering for immortal food,
Can I taste a blessing here
In the absence of my God?
No: till Christ again return,
Christ, whose word the sinner cheers,
Still I obstinately mourn,
Eat my bitter bread with tears.
Hungering for immortal food,
Can I taste a blessing here
In the absence of my God?
No: till Christ again return,
Christ, whose word the sinner cheers,
Still I obstinately mourn,
Eat my bitter bread with tears.
Love was once my pleasant meat,
Meat that season'd all the rest;
Jesus to my taste was sweet,
Jesus was my constant feast:
But the Comforter is fled,
But the pardoning God is gone,
He who turn'd my stone to bread,
He hath turn'd my bread to stone.
Meat that season'd all the rest;
Jesus to my taste was sweet,
Jesus was my constant feast:
But the Comforter is fled,
But the pardoning God is gone,
He who turn'd my stone to bread,
He hath turn'd my bread to stone.
362
Tasteless all the world to me
Till His favour I regain,
Happiness is misery,
Joy is grief, and pleasure pain;
But my Lord, for whom I grieve,
Shall at last my want supply,
Bid me taste His love and live,
Bid me see His face, and die.
Till His favour I regain,
Happiness is misery,
Joy is grief, and pleasure pain;
But my Lord, for whom I grieve,
Shall at last my want supply,
Bid me taste His love and live,
Bid me see His face, and die.
X.
[Perishing for hunger, I]
Perishing for hunger, I,
Ever at the point to die,
Languishing for want of God,
Can I taste my outward food?
Ever at the point to die,
Languishing for want of God,
Can I taste my outward food?
Yet for Thy commandment sake,
Lord, my outward food I take,
Strength for farther sufferings gain,
Lengthen out a life of pain.
Lord, my outward food I take,
Strength for farther sufferings gain,
Lengthen out a life of pain.
Lo! my necessary meat
Still with bitter herbs I eat,
Till I out of Egypt pass,
Till I know Thy pardoning grace.
Still with bitter herbs I eat,
Till I out of Egypt pass,
Till I know Thy pardoning grace.
Spare, my friends, your vain expense,
Take your tasteless dainties hence,
Give your idle reasonings o'er,
Grieve me with your love no more.
Take your tasteless dainties hence,
Give your idle reasonings o'er,
Grieve me with your love no more.
Well I know the promise sure,
“All things to the pure are pure;”
But to me of lips unclean
Good is ill, and pleasure sin.
“All things to the pure are pure;”
But to me of lips unclean
Good is ill, and pleasure sin.
363
Leave me then, without relief,
Obstinately fix'd in grief,
Steadfastly resolved to know
No enjoyment here below.
Obstinately fix'd in grief,
Steadfastly resolved to know
No enjoyment here below.
Pleasure will I never taste
Till the pain of sin is past,
Never take delight in food
Till I feed upon my God.
Till the pain of sin is past,
Never take delight in food
Till I feed upon my God.
XI.
[Oh, how can a criminal feast]
Oh, how can a criminal feast
In chains and appointed to die?
Oh, how can a sinner be blest
With only an outward supply?
Till Him at the table I meet
Who chases my sorrows and fears,
The bread of affliction I eat,
And mingle my drink with my tears.
In chains and appointed to die?
Oh, how can a sinner be blest
With only an outward supply?
Till Him at the table I meet
Who chases my sorrows and fears,
The bread of affliction I eat,
And mingle my drink with my tears.
For mercy I languish and faint,
My only refreshment and food;
Thy mercy, O Jesus, I want,
I hunger and thirst after God:
No blessing or good I desire
On earth or in heaven above,
But grant me the grace I require,
But give me a taste of Thy love!
My only refreshment and food;
Thy mercy, O Jesus, I want,
I hunger and thirst after God:
No blessing or good I desire
On earth or in heaven above,
But grant me the grace I require,
But give me a taste of Thy love!
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |