Wesley Corpus

Our Master's burthen we sustain, Afflicted for his sake, In loss, reproach, distress, and pain, A strange delight we take. We drink the consecrated cup Our Saviour drank before, And fill our Lord's afflictions up, And triumph in his power. His power is in our weakness shewn, And perfectly display'd; The strength we feel is not our own, But flows from Christ our head. With consolations from above He fills our ravish'd breast, The Spirit of his glorious love On every soul doth rest. He takes his suffering people's part, And sheds his love abroad, And witnesses with every heart Thou art a child of God. Surely we now believe and feel Our sins are all forgiven, The outward and the inward seal Confirms us heirs of heaven. 17A manuscript precursor of this hymn appears in MS Thirty, 220-22. 18Ori., "truth"; changed in 2nd edn. (1745). Page 34 Then let us all our burthen bear, To Christ our souls commend, Joyful his lot on earth to share, And patient to the end. Be faithful unto death he cries, And I the crown will give, Amen, the glorious Sp'rit replies, We die with thee to live. O King of saints, with pitying eye, Thy poor afflicted people see, Who hold thy word, nor dare deny Thy name, tho' suffering loss for thee. Expos'd to shame, and want, and pain, Crush'd by the persecutor's power, Thou, Lord, their fainting souls sustain, And keep them in their trying hour. From anger, and contemptuous pride, From low revenge, and faithless fear, Preserve, and still their spirits hide, Till thou in their behalf appear. Their feeble hearts confirm, unite, And fix on their reward above: Imbolden with thy Spirit's might, And arm them with thy patient love. Thee let the witnesses confess Before the rebel sons of men, Proclaim thine all-victorious grace, And suffer till with thee they reign: To thee, and to each other cleave, While midst the ravening wolves they lie, A pattern to believers live, A pattern to believers die! Page 35 Jesus, the glory take! Afflicted, and opprest, Revil'd and hated for thy sake, Thou hast pronounc'd us blest: The blessing we receive, We all our seal set to, Now, Lord, we feelingly believe, And own that thou art true.