Wesley Corpus

[Matthew 5:4.] “Blessed are they that mourn” Source: Hymns and Sacred Poems (1740), Part I Author: Charles Wesley (attributed) --- Sorrow and self shall then expire, While entred into rest, I only live my God t’ admire, My God forever blest. No longer then my heart shall mourn, While purified by grace, I only for his glory burn, And always see his face. My stedfast soul, from falling free, Can now no longer move; Jesus is all the world to me, And all my heart is love. [Matthew v. 4.] “Blessed are they that mourn.”67 Gracious soul, to whom are given Holy hungrings after heaven, Restless breathings, earnest moans, Deep, unutterable groans, Agonies of strong desire, Love’s supprest, unconscious fire; Turn again to God thy rest, Jesus hath pronounc’d thee blest: Humbly to thy Jesus turn Comforter of all that mourn: Happy mourner, hear, and see, Claim the promise made to thee. 67This hymn appeared first in the 2nd edn. of HSP (1739), 100-102; it was then moved to this collection. Lift to him thy weeping eye, Heaven behind the cloud descry: If with Christ thou suffer here, When his glory shall appear, Christ his suffering son shall own; Thine the cross, and thine the crown. Just thro’ him, behold thy way Shining to the perfect day: Dying thus to all beneath, Fashion’d to thy Saviour’s death, Him the resurrection prove, Rais’d to all the life of love. What if here a while thou grieve, God shall endless comfort give: Sorrow may a night endure, Joy returns as day-light sure: Praise shall then thy life employ: Sow in tears, and reap in joy.68 Doth thy Lord prolong his stay? Mercy wills the kind delay: Hides he still his lovely face? Lo! He waits to shew his grace: Seems he absent from thy heart? ’Tis, that he may ne’er depart. Gently will he lead the weak, Bruised reeds he ne’er will break; Touch’d with sympathizing care, Thee he in his arms shall bear, Bless with late but lasting peace, Fill with all his righteousness. 68Line reads “Sown in tears, and reap’d in joy” in 2nd edn. of HSP (1739). Couldst thou the Redeemer see, How his bowels yearn on thee! How he marks with pitying eye, Hears his new-born children cry, Bears what every member bears, Groans their groans, and weeps their tears! Couldst thou know, as thou art known, Jesus would appear thy own: Most abandon’d tho’ it seem, Darkly safe thy soul with him; Farthest when from God remov’d, Nearest then, and most belov’d. Feebly then thy hands lift up, Hope, amidst despairing, hope: Stand beneath thy load of grief, Stagger not thro’ unbelief; Make thy own election sure, Faithful to the end endure. God, to keep thee safe from harms, Spreads his everlasting arms, Feeds with secret strength divine, Waits to whisper “Thou art mine!” His that thou may’st ever be, Now he hides himself from thee. Meekly then persist to mourn, Soon he will, he must return: Call on him; he hears thy cry, Soon he will, he must draw nigh; This the hope, which nought can move, God is truth, and God is love!