Some of the Last Words of J. G. Bellett
Sadly altered was the poor worn-out body, pillowed in an easy chair, but his spirit was rejoicing in his much-loved Lord. He said,
“Two months ago, when I felt this sickness was unto death, I ask Him to reveal Himself to me in increased loveliness and nearness. He did. He filled me with Himself. I know the blood has done its blessed, blessed, work for my soul; it is His love, His beauty, His perfection, that fill my heart and vision.”
He then spoke of feeling a little better that day.
“But ah! that is no pleasure to me.”
Then, clasping his dear thin hands together, he said, while tears flowed down his face,
“My precious Lord Jesus, Thou knowest how fully I can say with Paul, to depart and be with Thee is far better! I do long for it! They come and talk to me of a crown of glory—I bid them cease; of the glory of heaven—I bid them stop. I am not wanting crowns—I have Himself! Himself! I am going to be with Himself! Ah! with the Man of Sychar; with Him who stayed to call Zacchaeus; with the Man of the 8th of John; with the Man who hung upon the cross; with the Man who died! O, to be with Him before the glories, the crowns, or the kingdom appear! It’s wonderful—wonderful! with the Man of Sychar alone; the Man of the gate of the city of Nain! and I am going to be with Him forever! exchange this sad, sad scene, which cast Him out, for His presence. O, the Man of Sychar!”
My pilgrim days are waning;
The voice of Him I love
Has called me to His presence,
In my Father’s house above;
Long, long, by faith I’ve known Him
But now I’m going to see
The Man who sits in heaven,
The Man who died for me.
To be alone with Jesus,
Himself to gaze upon,
To see the Man I’ve read about
Oft in the eighth of John,
To leave this scene of sadness,
O wondrous! Lord, to see
The glory of Thy presence,
The Man who died for me.
It is the Man Christ Jesus
With whom I’m going to dwell,
The weary Man of Sychar,
Who sat upon the well,
Whose matchless love filled that poor heart,
And gave her eyes to see
That He was God’s anointed One,
The Man who died for me.
I’m going to be with Jesus,
Who in this world of pain,
Gave back the widow’s only son,
Outside the gate of Nain;
His heart was moved with pity,
His word caused death to flee,
I’m going to see Him as He is,
The Man who died for me.
To leave the world that cast Him out,
And to be with Him there,
Before the kingdom glories
Or the “many crowns” appear,
O blessed Man of Sychar!
It is Himself to see,
He calls me to His presence,
The Man who died for me.
But ere I left the desert,
I longed that I might know
What joy His blessed presence
Could give me here below;
These few short fleeting moments,
O, I would nearer be
To Thee, my precious Saviour,
The Man who died for me.
He gave me all I asked for,
Yea, more than I can tell;
He filled my soul with rapture,
With joy unspeakable;
The hand of Jesus on my soul
Seemed laid so tenderly,
I had for my companion
The Man who died for me.
To fall asleep in Jesus,
‘Tis that I think of now,
To be forever with the Lord,
Before Himself to bow;
Ah, yes, with Him who
Called Zacchaeus from the tree,
With Him who hung upon the cross,
The Man who died for me.