Wesley Corpus

Redeem'd from earth, the tuneful soul, While everlasting ages roll, His triumph shall prolong; His noblest faculties exert, And all the musick of his heart Shall warble on his tongue. 30John Friedrich Lampe (1703-51), composer of the music for Festival Hymns (1746). Page 31 O that my mournful days were past, O that I might o'ertake at last My happy friend above; With him the church triumphant join And celebrate in strains divine, The majesty of love! Great God of love, prepare my heart, And tune it now to bear a part In heavenly melody, "I'll strive to sing as loud as they, Who sit inthron'd in brighter day," And nearer the Most-High. O that the promis'd time were come, O that we all were taken home, Our Master's joy to share! Draw, Lord, the living vocal stones, Jesus, recall thy banish'd ones, To chant thy praises there. Our number and our bliss compleat, And summon all the choir to meet Thy glorious throne around, The whole musician-band bring in, And give the signal to begin, And let the trumpet sound. Hymn XVII. On the Death of Mrs. Ann Wigginton,31 April 24, 1757. Part I.32 What shall we say? It is the Lord! His name be prais'd, his will be done! Bereav'd by his revoking word, We meekly render him his own, 31Ebenezer (d. 1745) and Ann (Bundy) Wigginton were a Quaker family in Bristol that CW drew into the early revival. On Oct. 26, 1739 Charles baptized Ebenezer Wigginton (see MS Journal). 32A shorthand predecessor of this two-part hymn appears in MS Spencer, 38-40; the scattered variants are noted in that file. Page 32 And faultless mourn our partner fled, Our friend remov'd, our Dorcas dead. A Christian good, without pretence, A widow by her works approv'd, A saint indeed is summon'd hence, To triumph with her best belov'd, In whom she found acceptance here, And shew'd her faith by humble fear. By works of righteousness she shew'd The gracious principle within, By reverence for the things of God, By deadness to the world and sin, By laying up her wealth above, By all the toils of patient love. Memorial of her faith unfeign'd, As incense sweet, before the throne, Did not her prayers and alms ascend, And bring the heavenly herald down? Did she not for the preacher call, With news of pard'ning grace for all?