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
May receive the glad word,

• Well and faithfully done ;
Enter into my joy, and sit down on my throne.”

Gone Home.

Rejoice for a brother deceased,

Our loss is his infinite gain ;
A soul out of prison released,

And free from its bodily chain ;
With
songs

let us follow his flight,
And mount with his spirit above,
Escaped to the mansions of light,

And lodged in the Eden of love.
Our brother the haven hath gain'd

Out-flying the tempest and wind ;
His rest he hath sooner obtain'd,

And left his companions behind,
Still toss'd on a sea of distress,

Hard toiling to make the blest shore,
Where all is assurance and peace,

And sorrow and sin are no more.

There all the ship's company meet,

Who sail'd with the Saviour beneath ;
With shouting each other they greet,

And triumph o'er trouble and death ;
The voyage of life 's at an end,

The mortal affliction is past ;
The age that in heaven they spend,

For ever and ever shall last.

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.*

God of Abraham.

The goodly land I see,

With peace and plenty blest;
A land of sacred liberty,

And endless rest.
There milk and honey flow;

And oil and wine abound;
And trees of life for ever grow,

With mercy crown'd.
There dwells the Lord our King,

The Lord our Righteousness,
Triumphant o'er the world and sin,

The Prince of Peace;
On Sion's sacred height,

His kingdom still maintains;
And glorious with His saints in light
For ever reigns.

He keeps His own secure,

He guards them by His side,
Arrays in garments white and pure

His spotless bride;
With streams of sacred bliss,

With groves of living joys,
With all the fruits of Paradise,

He still supplies.

THIRD PART.

Before the great Three-One

They all exulting stand,
And tell the wonders He hath done,

Through all their land;
The listening spheres attend,

And swell the growing fame;
And sing, in songs which never end,

The wondrous Name.

The God who reigns on high

The great archangels sing;
And, “ Holy, holy, holy,” cry,

Almighty King !
Who was and is the same,

And evermore shall be;
Jehovah, Father, Great I AM,

We worship Thee.”

Before the Saviour's face,

The ransom'd nations bow ;
O'erwhelm'd at His almighty grace,

For ever new :
He shews His prints of love, -

They kindle to a flame!
And sound through all the worlds above.

The slaughter'd Lamb.

The whole triumphant host

Give thanks to God on high ; " Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,"

They ever cry: