Wesley Corpus

Jesus, our outward wants relieve, But O! The food immortal give Our empty souls to fill; Sustain us by thy pard'ning grace, And bring us thro' this wilderness To thy celestial hill. To: "Spirit of truth descend," (Hymn 16). Life of the world, come down, And stir within our breast, And by thy presence crown The sober Christian feast: Jesus, of life the bread and well, Come at thy creature's call, And give our inmost souls to feel That thou art all in all. The tender life of God By thee in us begun, Sustain with heavenly food, And ever keep thine own: Our faith and hope and joy increase, Till strong in perfect love We all with holy violence seize The crown of life above. Page 4 For Mourners. To: "Happy Magdalene, to whom," (Hymn 10). Waiting for the Comforter, Hungring for immortal food, Can I taste a blessing here In the absence of my God? No: till Christ again return, Christ, whose word the sinner chears, Still I obstinately mourn, Eat my bitter bread with tears. Love was once my pleasant meat, Meat that season'd all the rest, Jesus to my taste was sweet, Jesus was my constant feast: But the Comforter is fled, But the pard'ning God is gone, He who turn'd my stone to bread, He hath turn'd my bread to stone. Tastless all the world to me Till his favour I regain, Happiness is misery, Joy is grief, and pleasure pain: But my Lord for whom I grieve Shall at last my want supply, Bid me taste his love and live, Bid me see his face, and die. To: "Jesu, dear departed Lord," (Hymn 15). Perishing for hunger I, Ever at the point to die, Languishing for want of God Can I taste my outward food? Yet for thy commandment sake, Lord, my outward food I take, Strength for farther sufferings gain, Lengthen out a life of pain. Lo! My necessary meat Still with bitter herbs I eat, Till I out of Egypt pass, Till I know thy pard'ning grace. Page 5 Spare, my friends, your vain expence, Take your tastless dainties hence, Give your idle reasonings o'er, Grieve me with your love no more. Well I know the promise sure "All things to the pure are pure;" But to me of lips unclean Good is ill, and pleasure sin.