I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
723. |
724. |
725. |
726. |
727. |
728. |
729. |
730. |
731. |
732. |
733. |
734. |
735. |
736. |
737. |
738. |
739. |
740. |
741. |
742. |
743. |
744. |
745. |
746. |
747. |
748. |
749. |
750. |
751. |
752. |
753. |
754. |
755. |
756. |
757. |
758. |
759. |
760. |
761. |
762. |
763. |
764. |
765. |
766. |
767. |
768. |
769. |
770. |
771. |
772. |
773. |
774. |
775. |
776. |
777. |
778. |
779. |
780. |
781. |
782. |
783. |
784. |
785. |
786. |
787. |
788. |
789. |
790. |
791. |
792. |
793. |
794. |
795. |
796. |
797. |
798. |
799. |
800. |
801. |
802. |
803. |
804. |
805. |
806. |
807. |
808. |
809. |
810. |
811. |
812. |
813. |
814. |
815. |
816. |
817. |
818. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||
VIII.
[Brethren, the end is near]
Brethren, the end is near,
Our Lord shall soon appear:
These the days of vengeance be,
Rumour'd ills the land distress;
Wars on wars ye hear and see,
Ushering in the Prince of Peace.
Our Lord shall soon appear:
These the days of vengeance be,
Rumour'd ills the land distress;
Wars on wars ye hear and see,
Ushering in the Prince of Peace.
His judgments are abroad,
Forerunners of our God;
Nation against nation fights,
Kingdoms against kingdoms rise;
Signs above, and fearful sights
Speak the anger of the skies.
Forerunners of our God;
Nation against nation fights,
Kingdoms against kingdoms rise;
Signs above, and fearful sights
Speak the anger of the skies.
The powers of heaven He shakes;
Earth to her centre quakes;
Famine shows her meagre face;
Pestilence stalks close behind;
Woes surround the sinful race;
Wrath abides on all mankind.
Earth to her centre quakes;
Famine shows her meagre face;
Pestilence stalks close behind;
Woes surround the sinful race;
Wrath abides on all mankind.
The nations are distress'd,
The wicked cannot rest:
No, in sin they sleep no more,
Toss'd with sad perplexity;
Swell the waves, and work, and roar;
Men are like the troubled sea.
The wicked cannot rest:
No, in sin they sleep no more,
Toss'd with sad perplexity;
Swell the waves, and work, and roar;
Men are like the troubled sea.
18
Terror their heart assails,
Their heart through terror fails;
Fails, o'erwhelm'd with huge dismay,
Looking for the plagues to come,
Shrinking from their evil day,
Fainting at their instant doom.
Their heart through terror fails;
Fails, o'erwhelm'd with huge dismay,
Looking for the plagues to come,
Shrinking from their evil day,
Fainting at their instant doom.
But ye that fear the Lord
Fear neither plague nor sword;
Jesus bids your care depart,
Ye in Jesus' love are blest;
Sprinkled is your peaceful heart:
Now expect the perfect rest.
Fear neither plague nor sword;
Jesus bids your care depart,
Ye in Jesus' love are blest;
Sprinkled is your peaceful heart:
Now expect the perfect rest.
These threatening clouds look through,
Good they portend to you:
Lift your heads, with joy look up,
Find your full redemption near;
See your soul's desire and hope,
See your glorious Lord appear.
Good they portend to you:
Lift your heads, with joy look up,
Find your full redemption near;
See your soul's desire and hope,
See your glorious Lord appear.
His near approach ye know,
Treated like Him below;
This the word that Jesus said,
Now your Master's lot ye find,
Mock'd, rejected, and betray'd,
Hated now by all mankind.
Treated like Him below;
This the word that Jesus said,
Now your Master's lot ye find,
Mock'd, rejected, and betray'd,
Hated now by all mankind.
In calm and quiet peace
Your patient souls possess;
God hath kept your innocence,
God shall still His own defend:
Rest in Him, your sure defence;
Suffer on, and wait the end.
Your patient souls possess;
God hath kept your innocence,
God shall still His own defend:
Rest in Him, your sure defence;
Suffer on, and wait the end.
19
His mercy's wings are spread
To guard your naked head;
None can hurt you now, or grieve,
Hated though ye be by all:
No, without your Saviour's leave
Not one sacred hair shall fall.
To guard your naked head;
None can hurt you now, or grieve,
Hated though ye be by all:
No, without your Saviour's leave
Not one sacred hair shall fall.
The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | ||