Wesley Corpus

Page 230 Lov'd his own flesh, when ready to depart, And lingring bore them on his yearning heart: His last desire, that they might take the prize, That they might follow him to paradise. Witness the prayers, in which with God he strove, Witness the labour of his dying love, The solemn lines he sign'd as with his blood, That call'd and pointed to th' atoning God. O Saviour, give them to his dying prayer, Snatch them from earth, for heavenly joys prepare, / And let the son salute the mother there! In sure and stedfast hope again to find The dear-lov'd relatives he left behind, Children and wife he back to Jesus gave, His Lord, he knew, could to the utmost save: Himself experienc'd now that utmost power, And clap'd his hands in death's triumphant hour, "Rejoice my friends," he cries, "rejoice with me, "Our dying Lord hath got the victory; "He comes! he comes! this is my bridal day, "Follow with songs of joy the breathless clay, "And shout my soul escap'd into eternal day!" A dying saint can true believers mourn? Joyful they see their friend to heaven return; His animating words their souls inspire, And bear them upwards on his car of fire: His looks, when language fails, new life impart; Heaven in his looks, and Jesus in his heart;