At even, ere 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 !
2. Once more 'tis even tide, 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 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 :
4. And all, O Lord, crave perfect rest, And to be wholly free from sin; And they who fain would serve Thee best, Are conscious most of wrong within.
5. 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:
6. 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.