442 | Laudes Domini#443 | 444 |
Text: | Rest at Eventide |
Author: | H. Twells |
1 At even, when the sun was set,
The sick, O Lord, around thee lay;
Oh, in what divers pains they met!
Oh, with what joy they went away!
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.
2 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;
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.
3 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;
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.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | At even, when the sun was set |
Title: | Rest at Eventide |
Author: | H. Twells |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1890 |
Topic: | Privileges of Believers; Christians: Privileges; Evening |
Notes: | Public Domain. |