Wesley Corpus

Hymns and Sacred Poems (1749) Vol 2

AuthorCharles Wesley
Typehymn-collection
Year1749
Passage IDcw-duke-hymns-and-sacred-poems-1749-vol-2-027
Words381
Sourcehttps://divinity.duke.edu/initiatives/wesleyan-methodist/...
Catholic Spirit Universal Redemption Christology
Glory to the awful God! Object of thy kindest care, 31John Wesley substituted "own" for "dear" in manuscript in his personal copy of the 2nd edn. (1756). Page 41 Thankful I adore thy rod, Bless thee for the griefs I bear, Griefs which all my steps attend, Hasten on the joyful end. O how wonderful thy love, Most benign, when most severe! All thy rivals to remove, All my hopes of comfort here, Forcing me to feel, and see, All on earth is vanity. Long as in the vale I live, Calmly in the vale I mourn, Thankfully my lot receive, 'Till I to thy arms return, Hardned in my grief, 'till I Sink into thy arms, and die. 'Till that welcome hour I see, Brood I o'er my hoarded grief, Hug my sacred misery, Wretched above all relief, Smile I with superior pain, Earth, and all its joys disdain. What a mighty blessing this! Peace on earth I cannot know, Cannot taste a moment's bliss, Stript of all I priz'd below; Shall I of my loss complain? Only heaven is greater gain. On the Loss of His Friends. Hymn III.34 Disconsolate tenant of clay, In solemn assurance arise, 32John Wesley wrote in a manuscript "Q" after stanzas 3-5 in his personal copy of the 2nd edn. (1756). 33John Wesley marked this hymn with a manuscript "Q" in his personal copy of the 2nd edn. (1756). 34A manuscript precursor of this hymn appears in MS Occasional Hymns, 36-37. Page 42 Thy treasure of sorrow survey, And look thro' it all to the skies: That heavenly house is prepar'd For all who are sufferers here, And wait the return of their Lord, And long for his day to appear. Who suffer in Jesus's shame, Shall triumph in Jesus's love: A child of affliction I claim My sure habitation above, My seal of election is this, His marks in my body I bear; My fulness of infinite bliss, My crown of rejoicing is there. There all the tempestuous blast Of bitter affliction is o'er, The spirit is landed at last, And sorrow, and shame are no more, Temptation, and trouble are gone, The trial is all at an end And there I shall cease to bemoan The loss of my brother, and friend.