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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
3311.
[The moment we begin our race]
Let us run with patience the race that is set, &c.
—xii. 1.
The moment we begin our race,
We must the Saviour's cross embrace,
Must daily take it up, and run
With patience, till the race is won,
Our nature's flattering hope resign,
In pomp of ghostly gifts to shine,
Nor dream, when saved from slavish fear,
We need no longer suffer here.
We must the Saviour's cross embrace,
Must daily take it up, and run
With patience, till the race is won,
Our nature's flattering hope resign,
In pomp of ghostly gifts to shine,
Nor dream, when saved from slavish fear,
We need no longer suffer here.
While after Jesus we proceed,
Patience we every moment need,
By a whole world of sinners tried,
Conform'd to Jesus crucified;
The patience of unwearied hope
Must bear our fainting spirits up,
Comfort, till all our deaths are pass'd,
And give the' immortal crown at last.
Patience we every moment need,
152
Conform'd to Jesus crucified;
The patience of unwearied hope
Must bear our fainting spirits up,
Comfort, till all our deaths are pass'd,
And give the' immortal crown at last.
Were all the race already run,
And one short step remain'd alone,
To take that one short step behind,
We need be arm'd with Jesu's mind;
For if we rest as now secure,
And do not to the end endure,
If patience fail, we fall from grace,
And drop the cross, and lose the race.
And one short step remain'd alone,
To take that one short step behind,
We need be arm'd with Jesu's mind;
For if we rest as now secure,
And do not to the end endure,
If patience fail, we fall from grace,
And drop the cross, and lose the race.
But Thou on whom our souls depend,
Wilt keep us patient to the end,
And still with passive grace supply,
Daily with Thee to bleed and die;
Till strengthen'd by Thy Spirit's power,
We meet that last decisive hour,
And mingle with the' immortal dead,
From pain and death for ever freed.
Wilt keep us patient to the end,
And still with passive grace supply,
Daily with Thee to bleed and die;
Till strengthen'd by Thy Spirit's power,
We meet that last decisive hour,
And mingle with the' immortal dead,
From pain and death for ever freed.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |