Far beneath his feet he views, The grand millennial reign begun; Resting in this glorious hope To earthquake, plague, or sword: Listening for the call divine, The latest trumpet of the seven, Wrestling Jacob. Come, O thou Traveller unknown, And I am left alone with Thee: I need not tell Thee who I am, Look on my hands, and read it there: But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou? Tell me Thy name, and tell me now. In vain Thou strugglest to get free, Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal To know it now, resolved I am : CHARLES WESLEY. Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. What though my shrinking flesh complain, I rise superior to my pain: When I am weak, then I am strong! VOL. IV. PART II. Yield to me now, for I am weak; 'Tis Love! 'tis Love! Thou diedst for me Thy Nature and Thy Name is Love. My prayer hath power with God: the grace Through faith I see Thee face to face. I see Thee face to face, and live! I know thee, Saviour, who Thou art, The Sun of Righteousness on me 409 Wither'd my nature's strength, from thee Contented now upon my thigh I halt, till life's short journey end; On Thee alone for strength depend; Lame as I am, I take the prey; Hell, earth, and sin with ease o'ercome; I leap for joy, pursue my way, And as a bounding hart fly home; Through all eternity to prove Thy Nature and thy Name is Love. For the New Year. Come, let us anew Our journey pursue, Roll round with the year, And never stand still till the Master appear. His adorable will Let us gladly fulfil, And our talents improve, By the patience of hope, and the labour to love. Our life is a dream; Our time, as a stream, Gildes swiftly away; And the fugitive moment refuses to stay. The arrow is flown; The moment is gone; The millennial year Rushes on to our view, and eternity's here. CHARLES WESLEY. O that each in the day Of His coming may say, "I have fought my way through; I have finish'd the work Thou didst give me to do." O that each from his Lord Enter into my joy, and sit down on my throne." Gone Home. Rejoice for a brother deceased, And mount with his spirit above, And lodged in the Eden of love. Our brother the haven hath gain'd There all the ship's company meet, The mortal affliction is past; 411 THOMAS OLIVERS. Although converted by the preaching of Whitefield, this fervid Welshman attached himself to the cause and the connexion of Mr Wesley, and for some time aided him in editing the "Arminian Magazine," and his dust now rests in Mr Wesley's tomb, behind the chapel in City Road. He was born at Tregonan, Montgomeryshire, in 1725, and died in March 1799.* "Creamer's Methodist Hymnology:" New York, 1848. "Gadsby's Hymn Writers." |