There before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb.@Revelation 7:9
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958)

Charles Wesley, Funeral Hymns 1759.

Forest Green English melody; arranged by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1906 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Charles Wesley died (1788) three years before his brother. It is said that some time after his death John Wesley, then venerable with age and almost to the margin come, ascended the pulpit on one occasion in the Foundry Church, and after reading the lesson, he turned to the hymn selected as if to read it after his usual manner; but instead he buried his face in his hands and stood there in that solemn and impressive attitude for several minutes. Every eye was fixed upon him, and every ear listened as he then opened the hymn book and read in a most impressive manner his brother’s hymn:

Come, let us join our friends above,
That have obtained the prize.

The audience was deeply moved and well knew where his thoughts were.

Nutter, p. 319

Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Come, let us join our friends above,
That have obtained the prize,
And on the eagle wings of love
To joys celestial rise.
Let saints on earth unite to sing
With those to glory gone,
For all the servants of our king
In earth and Heaven are one.

One family we dwell in Him,
One church above, beneath,
Though now divided by the stream,
The narrow stream of death;
One army of the living God,
At His command we bow;
Part of His host have crossed the flood,
And part are crossing now.

Ten thousand to their endless home
This solemn moment fly,
And we are to the margin come,
And we expect to die.
His militant embodied host,
With wishful looks we stand,
And long to see that happy coast,
And reach the heavenly land.

Our old companions in distress
We haste again to see,
And eager long for our release,
And full felicity:
Even now by faith we join our hands
With those that went before;
And greet the blood besprinkled bands
On the eternal shore.

Our spirits too shall quickly join,
Like theirs with glory crowned,
And shout to see our captain’s sign,
To hear His trumpet sound.
O that we now might grasp our guide!
O that the word were given!
Come, Lord of Hosts, the waves divide,
And land us all in Heaven.