Wesley Corpus

He in the kind physician came, (Bow all to Jesus' balmy name!) Amidst my weeping friends he stood, And mix'd the cordial with his blood, Display'd his dead-reviving art, And pour'd his life into my heart. Brought from the gates of death I give My life to him by whom I live, Rais'd from a restless bed of pain I render him my strength again, And only wait to prove his grace, And only breathe,30 to breathe his praise. Oblation of a Sick Friend. God of love, with pity see, Succour our infirmity; Father, let thy will be done; Thine we say, but mean our own. 30Ori. (in both cases), "breath." Page 86 Can we of ourselves resign The most precious loan divine? With thy loveliest creature part? Lord, thou seest our bleeding heart. Whom thyself hast planted there, From our bleeding heart to tear, This, most sensibly we feel, This we own impossible. Dearest of thy gifts below, Nature cannot let her go, Nature, 'till by grace subdued, Will not give her back to God. But we would receive the power Every blessing to restore, Would to thy decision bow, Would be meekly willing now. If thou wilt thine own revoke, Now inflict the sudden stroke, Take our eyes' and heart's desire, Let her in thine arms expire. Stript of all, we trust in thee, As our day our strength shall be, Jesus, Lord, we come to prove All the virtue of thy love. When the creature-streams are dry, Thou thyself our wants supply, Thou of life the fountain art, Rise eternal in our heart. Another Oblation of a Sick Friend. Lover, friend of human kind, Call thy days of flesh to mind, Page 87 When thou didst our sorrows bear, All our sinless frailties share. When thou didst converse below, Every shape of human woe, Every supplicant in pain Could thy ready help obtain. Melted by thy creature's tears, Troubled with our griefs and fears, Pity made thy Spirit groan, Made our miseries thine own. None applied in vain to thee, Thy divine philanthropy Chear'd the faint, the hungry fed, Heal'd the sick, and rais'd the dead. Hear us then, thou Man of Grief, O make haste to our relief, After thee for help we cry, Come, before our sister die.