Wesley Corpus

Funeral Hymns (1746)

AuthorCharles Wesley
Typehymn-collection
Year1746
Passage IDcw-duke-funeral-hymns-1746-004
Words369
Sourcehttps://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/...
Christology Reign of God Pneumatology
The languishing head is at rest, Its thinking and aching are o'er, The quiet immovable breast Is heav'd by affliction no more: 5See Charles's revised version in MS Funeral Hymns, 109-10. Page 8 The heart is no longer the seat Of trouble and torturing pain, It ceases to flutter and beat, It never shall flutter again. The lids he so seldom could close, By sorrow forbidden to sleep, Seal'd up in eternal repose, Have strangely forgotten to weep: The fountains can yield no supplies, These hollows from water are free, The tears are all wip'd from these eyes, And evil they never shall see. To mourn, and to suffer, is mine, While bound in a prison I breathe, And still for deliverance pine, And press to the issues of death: What now with my tears I bedew, O might I this moment become, My spirit created a-new, My flesh be consign'd to the tomb. Hymn VI. 'Tis finish'd! 'Tis done! The spirit is fled, The pris'ner is gone, The Christian is dead! The Christian is living In Jesus's6 love, And gladly receiving A kingdom above. All honour and praise Are Jesus's due; Supported by grace, He fought his way thro'; 6Ori., "Jesus his"; changed in 4th edn. (1765) and following. Page 9 Triumphantly glorious Thro' Jesus's zeal, And more than victorious O'er sin, death, and hell. Then let us record The conquering name, Our Captain and Lord With shoutings proclaim: Who trust in his passion And follow our head, To certain salvation We all shall be led. O Jesus, lead on Thy militant care, And give us the crown Of righteousness there; Where dazled with glory The seraphim gaze, Or prostrate adore thee In silence of praise. Come, Lord, and display Thy sign in the sky, And bear us away To mansions on high; The kingdom be given, The purchase divine, And crown us in heaven Eternally thine. Hymn VII. O when shall we sweetly remove! O when shall we enter our rest! Return to the Sion above, The mother of spirits distrest! Page 10 That city of God, the great King, Where sorrow and death are no more, But saints our Immanuel sing, And cherub and seraph adore.