Text: | At even, ere the sun was set |
Author: | Henry Twills |
Tune: | [At even, ere the sun was set] |
Composer: | D. B. Towner |
1 At even, ere the sun was set,
The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay;
O, with how many pains they met!
O, with what joy they went away!
Refrain:
Thy touch hath still its ancient pow'r,
No word from Thee can fruitless fall;
O in this solemn evening hour,
Do Thou in mercy heal us all.
2 Once more ’tis eventide, and we,
Oppressed with various ills, draw near;
What if Thyself we cannot see?
We know that Thou art ever near. [Refrain]
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. [Refrain]
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. [Refrain]
5 O Saviour Christ, Thou too art man;
Thou has been troubled, tempted, tried;
Thy kind but searching glance can scan
The very wounds that shame would hide. [Refrain]
Text Information | |
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First Line: | At even, ere the sun was set |
Author: | Henry Twills |
Refrain First Line: | Thy touch hath still its ancient pow'r |
Publication Date: | 1905 |
Notes: | Public Domain. |
Tune Information | |
---|---|
Name: | [At even, ere the sun was set] |
Composer: | D. B. Towner |
Notes: | Public Domain. |