When he had sung two verses, he lay still. After awhile he said, "I want to write."
So they brought him ink and paper, and put the pen in his hand; but John Wesley's writing days were over.
"I cannot," he said.
"Let me write for you," said one of his friends, "tell me what you want to say."
"Nothing," replied the dying Christian, "but that God is with us."
In the morning he wanted to get up, and while his friends were bringing him his clothes, he started to sing:
"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath,
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures.
"Happy the man, whose hopes rely
On Israel's God: He made the sky,
And earth and sea, with all their train;
His truth for ever stands secure;
He saves the opprest, He feeds the poor,
And none shall find His promise vain."
Hymn 224.
When he was dressed and seated in his chair, he prayed in a very weak voice: "Lord, Thou givest strength to those who can speak, and to those who cannot; speak, Lord, to all our hearts."
Then he tried to sing again, but his voice failed him.
He was soon tired of sitting up, and went back to bed. He could not talk very much; but twice he lifted his hand in triumph, and said so gladly: "The best of all is, God is with us."