At Even, Ere The Sun Was Set

Verse 1

At even, ere the sun was set,

Verse 2

The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay;

Verse 3

O, with how many pains they met!

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O, with what joy they went away

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Once more tis eventide, and we,

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Oppressed with various ills, draw near;

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What if Thyself we cannot see?

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We know that Thou art ever near. O Savior Christ, our woes dispel;

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For some are sick, and some are sad;

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And some have never loved Thee well,

Verse 11

And some have lost the love they had. And some are pressed with worldly care

Verse 12

And some are tried with sinful doubt;

Verse 13

And some such grievous passions tear,

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That only Thou canst cast them out. And some have found the world is vain,

Verse 15

Yet from the world they break not free;

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And some have friends who give them pain,

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Yet have not sought a friend in Thee. And none, O Lord, have perfect rest,

Verse 18

For none are wholly free from sin;

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And they who fain would serve Thee best

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Are conscious most of wrong within. O Savior Christ, Thou too art man;

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Thou has been troubled, tempted, tried;

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Thy kind but searching glance can scan

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The very wounds that shame would hide. Thy touch has still its ancient power.

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No word from Thee can fruitless fall;

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Hear, in this solemn evening hour,

Verse 26

And in Thy mercy heal us all.