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Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to thee.

Charles Wesley

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Charles Wesley
Age: 80 †
Born: 1707
Born: December 18
Died: 1788
Died: March 29
Hymnwriter
Philosopher
Poet
Theologian
Writer
North Lincs
Upon
Meek
Jesus
Gentle
Littles
Simplicity
Look
Pity
Little
Suffer
Come
Thee
Looks
Child
Children
Suffering
Mild

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Our children will grow up confused, not respecting the Bible or anything else that is sacred.
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Rejoice, the Lord is King! Your Lord and King adore Mortals, give thanks and sing, And triumph evermore: Lift up your heart, lift up your voice Rejoice, again, I say rejoice.
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Amazing Love! how can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
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Christ, by highest heaven adored. Christ, the everlasting Lord, Late in time behold Him come, Offspring of a virgin's womb. Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, Hail the incarnate Deity! Pleased as Man with man to dwell Jesus, our Immanuel!
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Hail the day that sees Him rise, Ravished from our wistful eyes! Christ, awhile to mortals given, Re-ascends His native heaven. There the glorious triumph waits, Lift your heads, eternal gates! Wide unfold the radiant scene, Take the King of glory in!
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Joyful, all ye nations, rise. Join the triumph of the skies. With angelic hosts proclaim Christ is born in Bethlehem!
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My soul is all an aching void.
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Come to earth to taste our sadness, he whose glories knew no end by his life he brings us gladness, our Redeemer, Shepherd, Friend. Leaving riches without number, born within a cattle stall this the everlasting wonder, Christ was born the Lord of all.
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Forth in thy name,O Lord, I go, My daily labour to pursue. Thee, only thee, resolved to know, In all I think or speak or do.
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Be friends of everyone. Be enemies of no-one
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In Fellowship alone To God, with Faith, draw near, Approach His Courts, besiege His Throne With all the power of Prayer.
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He left His Father's throne above, (So free, so infinite His grace!) Emptied Himself of all but love, And bled for Adam's helpless race.
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The person who bears and suffers evils with meekness and silence is the sum of a Christian man.
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God buries His workmen but carries on His work.
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... me He now delights to spare.
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O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer's praise, the glories of my God and King, the triumphs of his grace!
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Peace on earth, and mercy mild God and sinners reconciled.
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Not from his head was woman took, As made her husband to o'erlook Not from his feet, as one designed The footstool of the stronger kind But fashioned for himself, a bride An equal, taken from his side.
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God is gone up on high with a triumphant noise.
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I feel a strong immortal hope, which bears my mournful spirit up beneath its mountain load redeemed from death, and grief, and pain, I soon shall find my [child] again within the arms of God.
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