The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

Rest to my soul I gasp to find
In Jesu's meek and lowly mind,
In holy joy, and spotless love,
That foretaste of the rest above!
But ah, my flesh doth oft complain,
Tired with the long laborious pain;
And fainting in the vehement strife
I quit my hold of endless life.

Jesus, Thy feeblest servant fill
With power to labour up the hill,
With zeal toward the high prize to press,
With violent faith the crown to seize.
By Thee stirr'd up, I'll strive again,
I'll after full perfection strain;
Instant in prayer's strong agony,
Till pure in heart, Thy face I see.

Then, then my soul with rapid speed,
Shall labour up to grasp its Head;
All vigour, all activity,
I live, not I but Christ in me.

126

Passive, yet swift as light I fly,
Fill'd with the Power that fills the sky,
And draws me to that glorious throne,
To live with God, for ever one.

University of Virginia Library

3269.

[Rest to my soul I gasp to find]