The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley

We have not an High-priest above
Unmoved at what we suffer here:
In tenderest sympathy of love
He shares our pain, and grief, and fear,
Wounded with every wounded soul,
He bleeds the balm that makes us whole.

Hearing our feeble flesh complain,
He calls His days of flesh to mind,

127

The meek, afflicted Son of man,
To all His patient brethren join'd,
Adopts, and makes our woes His own,
With tear for tear, and groan for groan.

Tempted like us our Saviour was,
Divinely to the desert led,
Like us He languish'd on the cross,
Deserted at His greatest need,
Left to sustain our utmost load,
Abandon'd by His angry God.

Our sorrows, pure from sin, He bore,
Our tempted souls from sin to save:
And passing where He pass'd before,
Sad fellowship with Him I have,
And gasping on His cross depend,
Till pain and life together end.

No sooner was I call'd a son,
Than, lured into the wilderness,
I roved disconsolate, alone,
In want, temptation, and distress,
And long with the wild-beasts remain'd,
And all the' assaults of hell sustain'd.

The desert to the garden brought,
And fainting in mine evil day,
My heavenly Father I besought
To take the dreadful cup away,
In horrors, tears, and anguish found
With Jesus bleeding on the ground.

Jesus, with Thee Thy cross I share,
Till Thou repeat the word, 'Tis done,

128

The wrath of hell and heaven I bear,
The' unutterable grief unknown;
Ready to bow my head I cry,
And left of God in darkness die.

Yet now I feel a gleam of hope
(A pledge of glory) in my heart,
That when I yield my spirit up,
My spirit shall like Thine depart,
Into my Father's hands restored,
To reign triumphant with my Lord.

University of Virginia Library

3271.

[We have not an High-priest above]