English poem
COMPLAINING. From the same
by John Wesley (1703–1791)
Thou, Lord, my Pow'r and Wisdom art, O do not then reject my Heart! Thy Clay that weeps, thy Dust I am That calls, O put me not to Shame!
Thy Glories, Lord, in all things shine, Thine is the Deed, the Praise is Thine: A seeble helpless Creature. I Do at thy Pleasure live or die.
Art Thou All Justice?—shews thy Word Thro' Ev'ry Page and Angry Lord? Am I all Tears?—Is this to live? Is all my Business here, to grieve?
Fill not my Life's short Hour with Pain: Or, O contract the Wretched Span; So shall I mount from Sorrow free, And find Relief and Heav'n in Thee!