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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
Children
Suffering
Mild
Upon
Meek
Jesus
Gentle
Littles
Simplicity
Look
Pity
Little
Suffer
Come
Thee
Looks
Child

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The wisdom coming from above, the faith that sweetly works by love.
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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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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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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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Keep us little and unknown, prized and loved by God alone.
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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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Lo! He comes with clouds descending, Once for favoured sinners slain Thousand thousand Saints attending Swell the triumph of His train.
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My soul is all an aching void.
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Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free from our fears and sins release us let us find our rest in thee. Israel's strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art, dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.
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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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When summoned hence to thine eternal sleep, Oh, may'st thou smile while all around thee weep.
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Jesus weeps and loves me still.
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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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God buries His workmen but carries on His work.
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Our children will grow up confused, not respecting the Bible or anything else that is sacred.
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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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To God your every Want In instant Prayer display, Pray always Pray, and never faint Pray, without ceasing, Pray.
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Christ the Lord is risen to-day, Sons of men and angels say. Raise your joys and triumphs high Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply.
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Peace on earth, and mercy mild God and sinners reconciled.
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