John & Charles Wesley · 42 of 258

The Temper

From the same.

O Lord, how gladly would my rhymes Engrave Thy love in steel, If what my soul doth feel sometimes, My soul might ever feel!

Though there were forty heavens or more, Sometimes I mount them all; Sometimes I hardly reach a score, Sometimes to hell I fall.

Rack me not to such vast extent; These lengths belong to Thee; The world’s too little for Thy tent, A grave too big for me.

O, mete not arms with man, nor stretch A worm from heaven to hell! Strive not with dust, nor let a wretch Thy power almighty feel.

Yet take Thy way: Thy way is best; Grant or deny me ease: This is but tuning of my breast, To make the music please.

Rise I to heaven, or sink to dust, In both Thy hands appear; Thy power and love, my love and trust Make one place everywhere!