O how sore a thing and grievous, Is it from our God to run!

Verse 1
O how sore a thing and grievous
Is it from our God to run!
When we force our God to leave us,
Wretched are we and undone:
Are we not our own tormentors,
When from happiness we flee?
Yes; our soul the iron enters,
Sin is perfect misery.

Verse 2
I the bitter cup have tasted;
Still I drink the mingled gall,
Still my soul by sin lies wasted,
Unrecover’d from its fall:
Still beneath his frown I languish:
God, from whom I would depart,
Leaves me to my grief and anguish,
Gives me up to my own heart.

Verse 3
Plague and curse I now inherit,
Fears, and wars, and storms within,
Pain, and agony of spirit,
Sin chastising me for sin,
Weeping, woe, and lamentation,
Vain desire, and fruitless prayer,
Guilt, and shame, and condemnation,
Doubt, distraction, and despair.

Verse 4
Ye who now injoy his favour,
Husband well the precious grace,
Never lose, like me, your Saviour,
Never break from his embrace:
Do not by your lightness grieve him;
Youthful lusts and idols flee,
Little children, never leave him,
Never lose your God like me.

Verse 5
Punish’d after my demerit,
Dives-like on you I call;
Lest my portion you inherit,
Take example by my fall;
Lest your joy be turn’d to mourning,
Lest ye come into my hell;
Listen to the solemn warning,
Keep the grace from which I fell.

Verse 6
Dead to praise, and wealth, and beauty,
Cast on Christ your every care,
Walk in all the paths of duty,
Praying, watching unto prayer:
Pray; and when the answer’s given,
When ye find the passage free,
When your faith hath open’d heaven,
Faithful souls, remember me!

Hymnal/Album: Introduced in Hymns and Sacred Poems Vol. 1, published by Charles Wesley (Bristol: Felix Farley, 1749). Published in The Poetical Works of John and Charles Wesley, Collected and Arranged by G. Osborn, Vol. 4 (London: Wesleyan-Methodist Conference Office, 1869), page 382.
Publishing: Public Domain