A Collection of Hymns (1780)
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1780 |
| Passage ID | cw-hymns-1780-169 |
| Words | 400 |
| Source | https://www.ccel.org/ccel/wesley/hymn.html |
Are all laid up above :
Far above all earthly things,
While yet my hands are here employ 'd,
Sees my soul the King of kings,
And freely talks with God.
For Believers Working. oil
O that all the art might know
Of living thus to thee !
Find their heaven begun below,
And here thy glory see !
Walk in all the works prepared
By thee to exercise their grace,
Till they gain their full reward,
And see thy glorious face !
1 /^APTAIN of Israel's host, and Guide
^^ Of all who seek the land above,
Beneath thy shadow we abide,
The cloud of thy protecting love :
Our strength, thy grace ; our rule, thy word ;
Our end, the glory of the Lord.
2 By thine unerring Spirit led,
We shall not in the desert stray ;
We shall not full direction need,
Nor miss our providential way ;
As far from danger as from fear,
While love, almighty love, is near.
THOU who earnest from above,
The pure celestial fire to' impart,
Kindle a flame of sacred love
On the mean altar of my heart.
2 There let it for thy glory burn,
With inextinguishable blaze ;
And trembling to its source return,
In humble prayer and fervent praise.
oi.2 For Believers Working.
3 Jesus, confirm my heart's desire
To work, and speak, and think for thee ;
Still let me guard the holy fire,
And still stir up thy gift in me.
4 Ready for all thy perfect will,
My acts of faith and love repeat,
Till death thy endless mercies seal,
And make the sacrifice complete.
A^THEN quiet in my house I sit,
* * Thy book be my companion still ;
My joy thy sayings to repeat,
Talk o'er the records of thy will,
And search the oracles divine,
Till every heart -felt word be mine.
2 O may the gracious words divine
Subject of all my converse be :
So will the Lord his follower join,
And walk and talk himself with me ;
So shall my heart his presence prove,
And burn with everlasting love.
3 Oft as I lay me down to rest,
O may the reconciling word
Sweetly compose my weary breast !
While, on the bosom of my Lord,
1 sink in blissful dreams away,
And visions of eternal day.
4 Rising to sing my Saviour's praise,