Oh that in me the sacred fire
Might now begin to glow,
Burn up the dross of base desire,
And make the mountains flow!
Oh, that it now from heaven might fall
And all my sins consume
Come, Holy Ghost, for thee I call,
Spirit of burning, come!
Refining fire, go through my heart,
Illuminate my soul;
Scatter thy life through every part,
And sanctify the whole.
- Charles Wesley (Hymn: My God! I Know, I Feel Thee Mine)
You may tell them, father,
When you see them,
I’m a poor mourning pilgrim,
I’m bound for Canaan’s land;
You may tell them, mother,
When you see them,
I’m a poor mourning pilgrim,
I’m bound for Canaan’s land.
Chorus:
I weep, and I mourn,
And I move slowly on,
I’m a poor mourning pilgrim,
I’m bound for Canaan’s land.
You may tell them, brothers,
When you see them,
I’m a poor mourning pilgrim,
I’m bound for Canaan’s land;
You may tell them, sisters,
When you see them,
I’m a poor mourning pilgrim,
I’m bound for Canaan’s land.
