20 | The Hymnal#21 | 22 |
Text: | At even ere the sun was set |
Author: | Rev. Henry Twells |
1. At even, ere the sun was set,
The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay;
O in what diverse pains they met!
O with what joy they went away!
2. Once more 'tis eventide, and we,
Oppressed with various ills, draw near:
What if Thy form we cannot see?
We know and feel that Thou art here.
3. O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel:
For some are sick, and some are sad,
And some have never loved Thee well,
And some have lost the love they had;
4. And none, O Lord, have perfect rest,
For none are wholly free from sin;
And they who fain would serve Thee best
Are conscious most of wrong within.
5. O Saviour Christ, Thou too art Man,
Thou hast been troubled, tempted, tried;
Thy kind but searching glance can scan
The very wounds that shame would hide.
6. Thy touch has still its ancient power;
No word from Thee can fruitless fall:
Hear in this solemn evening hour,
And in Thy mercy heal us all.
Amen.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | At even ere the sun was set |
Author: | Rev. Henry Twells (1868) |
Publication Date: | 1895 |