1 At even, when the sun was set,
the sick, O Lord, around thee lay;
O in what divers 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 Savior 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 O Savior 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.
5 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.
|First Line:||At even, when the sun was set|
|Title:||At Even, When the Sun Was Set|
|Author:||Henry Twells (1868)|
|Topic:||Jesus Christ: Life and Ministry|
|Composer (melody):||G. Scheffler (1657; adapt.)|