Hymns and Sacred Poems (1749), Hymn 13: In the Work

I Come, O God, to do Thy will,
With Jesus in my view,
A servant of His servants still,
My Pattern I pursue.

My loving labour I repeat,
Obedient to His word,
And wash His dear disciples' feet,
And wait upon my Lord.

I have my Saviour always near,
On Him I now attend,
I see Him in His members here,
My Brother, and my Friend.

Shivering beneath those rags He stands,
Again exposed, and bare,
And stretches out His helpless hands,
And asks my tender care.

And shall I not relief afford,
Put off my costly dress,
Tear it away to clothe my Lord,
Who hides my sinfulness!

Drink to a thirsty Christ I give,
An hungry Christ I feed,
The stranger to my house receive,
Who here shall lay his head,

Sick, and in prison will I find,
And all his sorrows cheer,
Or bring him forth, and doubly kind
Relieve, and tend him here.

In sickness will I make his bed,
The cordial draught prepare,
My hands shall hold his fainting head,
And all his burden bear.

Surely I now my Saviour see,
In this poor worm conceal'd,
Wounded He asks relief of me,
Who all my wounds hath heal'd.

My needy Jesus I descry,
And in this object meet,
Sick, and in pain I see Him lie,
And gasping at my feet.

Paleness His dying face o'erspreads,
His griefs I more than see,
My heart at Jesu's suffering bleeds
With softest sympathy.

I fill my Lord's afflictions up,
His welcome burden bear,
And gladly drink His bitter cup,
And all His sorrows share.

Yes, Lord, with joy, and grief, and love
I now behold Thy face,
My God descended from above
To suffer in my place.

Thy visage marr'd with tears and blood,
Mine eyes of faith survey,
As when on yonder cross my God
A bleeding Victim lay.

Torn with the whips, and nails, and spear
Thy sacred body was;
O might it now to all appear
As hanging on the cross!

O that to Thee the world might bow,
And know Thy saving name,
And see, and serve, as I do now,
And love the bleeding Lamb!