John & Charles Wesley · 45 of 258

A Hymn for Midnight

While midnight shades the earth o’erspread, And veil the bosom of the deep, Nature reclines her weary head, And care respires and sorrows sleep: My soul still aims at nobler rest, Aspiring to her Saviour’s breast.

Aid me, ye hovering spirits near, Angels and ministers of grace; Who ever, while you guard us here, Behold your Heavenly Father’s face! Gently my raptured soul convey To regions of eternal day.

Fain would I leave this earth below, Of pain and sin the dark abode; Where shadowy joy, or solid woe, Allures, or tears me from my God: Doubtful and insecure of bliss, Since death alone confirms me His.

Till then, to sorrow born, I sigh, And gasp, and languish after home; Upward I send my streaming eye, Expecting till the Bridegroom come Come quickly, Lord! Thy own receive; Now let me see Thy face, and live.

Absent from Thee, my exiled soul Deep in a fleshly dungeon groans; Around me clouds of darkness roll, And labouring silence speaks my moans: Come quickly, Lord! Thy face display, And look my midnight into day.

Error, and sin, and death are o’er, If Thou reverse the creature’s doom; Sad Rachel weeps her loss no more, If Thou, the God, the Saviour come: Of Thee possest, in Thee we prove The light, the life, the heaven of love.