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| XII. |
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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
LXII. THE SAME.
Hymn 12.
[O that my load were gone]
O that my load were gone,
That I my wish might have,
Be saved from sin, and then sink down
Into a quiet grave!
Where grief and guilty care
Can never more molest:
The wicked cease from troubling there,
The weary are at rest.
That I my wish might have,
Be saved from sin, and then sink down
Into a quiet grave!
402
Can never more molest:
The wicked cease from troubling there,
The weary are at rest.
O that I now could find
A place to lay my head;
Be clean forgot, and out of mind,
And free among the dead!
O that the hour were come!
That I my head might bow,
And gain the harbour of the tomb,
And yield my spirit now!
A place to lay my head;
Be clean forgot, and out of mind,
And free among the dead!
O that the hour were come!
That I my head might bow,
And gain the harbour of the tomb,
And yield my spirit now!
Who that hath ever known
The bitterness of sin,
Would not for full redemption groan,
And die to be made clean?
But all in vain our hope
By death to be set free,
Unless we after God wake up,
And here His glory see.
The bitterness of sin,
Would not for full redemption groan,
And die to be made clean?
But all in vain our hope
By death to be set free,
Unless we after God wake up,
And here His glory see.
How then dare I presume,
Unchanged, and unrenew'd,
To wish for death—to meet my doom
And perish in my blood!
Even now (but God denies
My foolish heart's desire)
I should be lifting up my eyes
In everlasting fire.
Unchanged, and unrenew'd,
To wish for death—to meet my doom
And perish in my blood!
Even now (but God denies
My foolish heart's desire)
I should be lifting up my eyes
In everlasting fire.
Ah! gracious Lord, forgive
My unbelieving haste;
My time is in Thy hand, I leave
It all to Thee at last:
I do at last comply,
My stubborn will resign;
Choose Thou for me to live, or die,
And let Thy choice be mine.
My unbelieving haste;
My time is in Thy hand, I leave
It all to Thee at last:
403
My stubborn will resign;
Choose Thou for me to live, or die,
And let Thy choice be mine.
Still hide from me Thy face,
But give me strength to bear
The guilty load, the dire disgrace,
The sadness of despair:
Still let me groan beneath
A nature all unclean,
And drag the body of this death,
And feel this hell of sin.
But give me strength to bear
The guilty load, the dire disgrace,
The sadness of despair:
Still let me groan beneath
A nature all unclean,
And drag the body of this death,
And feel this hell of sin.
Why should a man complain,
Beneath the vengeful rod!
'Tis all my due, the penal pain,
The absence of my God;
An heavier doom than this
My sin deserves to feel,
The darkness of the great abyss,
The hottest flames of hell.
Beneath the vengeful rod!
'Tis all my due, the penal pain,
The absence of my God;
An heavier doom than this
My sin deserves to feel,
The darkness of the great abyss,
The hottest flames of hell.
With patience then I yield
To bear my lighter doom,
And wait till all my time's fulfill'd,
And my last change is come;
Only when all is past,
In pity think on me,
And save me as by fire at last,
And let me die in Thee.
To bear my lighter doom,
And wait till all my time's fulfill'd,
And my last change is come;
Only when all is past,
In pity think on me,
And save me as by fire at last,
And let me die in Thee.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |