Poems on several occasions

Wesley, Samuel (1662-1735)

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“A WOUNDED SPIRIT WHO CAN BEAR?”

I

What ease, what medicine for a wounded mind?
Why to the wretch are sense and being given?
Why should I live, or wherefore die, to find
Nor ease on earth, nor yet repose in heaven?

572

II

My breast still swells with unavailing sighs;
My eyes still flow with unvailing tears:
Tears that, unbid, gush silent from my eyes;
Sighs where true, genuine, secret grief appears.

III

With taste most exquisite of every bliss,
Stranger to joys, I every sorrow feel;
While in myself the cure neglected lies,
I see and like the good, but do the ill.

IV

Curst by myself, I of myself complain;
As none the guilt, let none the torment, share!
'Tis sore, distracting anguish, bitter pain,
Sure, full damnation of extreme despair!

University of Virginia Library

“A WOUNDED SPIRIT WHO CAN BEAR?”

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