Wesley Corpus

His love indifferent did to all abound, He bow'd to Jesu's name wherever found: Some good he found in all, but griev'd to see The world combine, the brethren disagree: Ah! Lord, regard in him thy Spirit's groan, And haste to perfect all thy saints in one! Divinely warn'd to meet the mortal hour, And tread the path his Saviour trod before, Without surprize the sudden call he heard, Always alike for life or death prepar'd; With calm delight the summons he receiv'd, For well he knew in whom he had believ'd, He knew himself with Christ for ever one, (The Lamb that died for all his sins t' atone) And welcom'd death whose only sting was gone: The foe to nature, but a friend to grace, The king of terrors with an angel-face! He smil'd as the swift messenger drew near, With stedfast faith, and love that cast out fear Look'd thro' the vale, and saw his Lord appear. Page 23 But O! what words the mighty joy can paint, Or reach the raptures of a dying saint! See there! the dying saint with smiling eyes A spectacle to men and angels lies! His soul from every spot of sin set free, His hope is full of immortality: To live was Christ to him, and death is gain; Resign'd, triumphant in the mortal pain, He lays his earthly tabernacle down In confidence to grasp the starry crown, Sav'd to the utmost here by Jesu's grace, "I here," he cries, "have seen his glorious face." Nor ev'n in death could he forget his own; Still the kind brother, and the pious son Lov'd his own flesh, when ready to depart, And lingring bore them on his yearning heart: His last desire, that they might take the prize, That they might follow him to paradise. Witness the prayers, in which with God he strove, Witness the labour of his dying love, The solemn lines he sign'd as with his blood, That call'd and pointed to th' atoning God. O Saviour, give them to his dying prayer, Snatch them from earth, for heavenly joys prepare, And let the son salute the mother there!