At Even, when the Sun did Set |
Henry Twells, 1868
At even, when the sun did set, The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay Oh, in what divers pain they met! Oh, with what joy they went away!
2. Once more 'tis eventide, and we,
3. O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel;
4. And some are pressed with worldly care, | 5. And some have found the world is vain, Yet from the world they break not free; And some have friends who give them pain, Yet have not sought a friend in Thee;
6. And none, O Lord, have perfect rest,
7. O Saviour Christ, Thou too, art man;
8. Thy touch has still its ancient power, |