1 Come, O my soul, the call obey,
Take up the burden of thy Lord!
His practice is thy living way,
Thy guide His pure unerring Word;
The lovely perfect pattern read,
And haste in all His steps to tread.
2 What did my Lord from sinners bear?
His patience is the rule for me;
Walking in Him I cannot err:
And lo! the Man of Griefs I see
Whose life one scene of sufferings was,
Quite from the manger to the cross.
3 Here then my calling I discern,
’Tis written in affliction’s book,
My first, and latest lesson learn,
For nothing here but sufferings look,
I bow me to the will divine,
To suffer with my Lord be mine.
4 To suffer as my Lord I come:
How did the Lamb His wrongs endure?
Clamorous and warm? or meek, and dumb?
Did He by force His life secure?
His injured innocence defend;
Or bear His burden to the end?
5 Did He evade the pain, and shame,
Impatient of unjust disgrace?
Did He throw off the imputed blame?
Did He from spitting hide His face?
Did He to man for succor fly?
Or offer up Himself, and die?
6 When nature sank beneath her load,
Would He the dreadful cup decline?
Prostrate, and bruised, and sweating blood,
"Father, Thy will be done, not Mine,"
He speaks, and meets His enemies,
And gives them power Himself to seize.
7 The Word, which struck them to the ground,
Could it not strike them into hell?
Whom all the hosts of Heaven surround,
He will not force by force repel;
"Put up," He cries, "thy needless sword,
Nor stain the meekness of thy Lord."
8 He chides His rash disciple’s zeal,
Accepts nor man’s nor angel’s aid:
Vouchsafes His wounded foe to heal:
The hands that had His murderers made,
He stretches out; He lets them bind
The hands that could unmake mankind.
Doth He in deed or word gainsay,
Or ask or struggle to be freed?
The lead the speechless Lamb away:
To scorn, and pain, and death they lead
The speechless Lamb; resigned unto
The utmost earth and hell could do.
O that I might like Him withstand,
Like Him mine innocency clear,
Like Him resist the ruffian band,
Like Him refuse the cross to bear,
Like Him the persecutor fly,
Like Him submit to live, and die?
Charles Wesley, M.A. was the great hymn-writer of the Wesley family, perhaps, taking quantity and quality into consideration, the great hymn-writer of all ages. Charles Wesley was the youngest son and 18th child of Samuel and Susanna Wesley, and was born at Epworth Rectory, Dec. 18, 1707. In 1716 he went to Westminster School, being provided with a home and board by his elder brother Samuel, then usher at the school, until 1721, when he was elected King's Scholar, and as such received his board and education free. In 1726 Charles Wesley was elected to a Westminster studentship at Christ Church, Oxford, where he took his degree in 1729, and became a college tutor. In the early part of the same year his religious impressions were much deepene… Go to person page >