Wesley Corpus

Touching this we both agree, If thy blessed will it be, 32Ori. (in both edns.), "cast"; a misprint. Page 109 Now the burning fever chide, Turn the dart of death aside. If thou dost our sorrows share, Children in thy bosom bear, Help an innocent opprest, Give to thy beloved rest. While we yet invoke thy name, Quench the life-devouring flame; While we a sad vigil keep, Grant him in thy arms to sleep. Thou his feebleness sustain, Pity, and assuage his pain, Thou whose tender mercies are Kinder than a father's care. Listning to his plaintive moan, Make his every grief thine own, Thou whose yearning bowels move Softer than a mother's love. Need we then prescribe to thee Cloath'd with our humanity, Succour with impatience crave, Urge salvation's self to save? No: we have our suit made known Now let all thy will be done: Do whate'er thy Spirit requests, Do whate'er thy heart suggests. Thanksgiving for His Recovery. Who is so great a God as ours, So near with his redeeming powers, Page 110 So ready at his creature's cry To send deliverance from the sky, To turn aside the ills we dread, And all our largest hopes exceed! Thou dost, in answer to our prayer, A death-devoted victim spare: Thou hast not, Lord, in wrath remov'd A child too tenderly belov'd, But still thine eye with pity sees His parents' life wrapt up in his. Thy pity heard our softest tears, And scatter'd all our griefs and fears, The means thy mercy sanctified, The balmy help thy love supplied, And gives our joyful hearts to own Thou dost the work, and thou alone. Our Isaac on the altar laid Receiving back as from the dead, We offer up at mercy's shrine A living sacrifice divine: And let him live to health restor'd, The servant of his quick'ning Lord. Saviour, inspire him with thy grace From now to run the Christian race, From now to seek the things above, And pant for his Redeemer's love, 'Till thou the heavenly bliss impart, And spread thy kingdom thro' his heart. Long may he live to serve thy will With humble persevering zeal, To recompense our tenderest tears, The stay of our declining years, And close his happy parents' eyes, And trace us then to paradise. Page 111 Another Thanksgiving for His Recovery.