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Evening Prayer

III.
In Sickness.

7,5,7,5

Herr, ein ganzer Leidenstag

Heinrich Puchta.

Lord, a whole long day of pain

Now at last is o'er!

Ah how much we can sustain

I have felt once more;

Felt how frail are all our powers,

And how weak our trust;

If Thou help not, these dark hours

Crush us to the dust.

Could I face the coming night

If Thou wert not near?

Nay, without Thy love and might

I must sink with fear:

Round me falls the evening gloom,

Sights and sounds all cease,

But within this narrow room

Night will bring no peace.

Other weary eyes may close,

All things seek their sleep,

Hither comes no soft repose,

I must wake and weep.

82

Come then, Jesus, o'er me bend,

Give me strength to cope

With my pains, and gently send

Thoughts of peace and hope.

Draw my weary heart away

From this gloom and strife,

And these fever pains allay

With the dew of life;

Thou canst calm the troubled mind,

Thou its dread canst still,

Teach me to be all resign'd

To my Father's will.

Then if I must wake and weep

All the long night through,

Thou the watch with me wilt keep,

Friend and Guardian true;

In the darkness Thou wilt speak

Lovingly with me,

Though my heart may vainly seek

Words to breathe to Thee.

Wheresoe'er my couch is made

In Thy hands I lie,

And to Thee alone for aid

Turns my restless eye;

Let my prayer grow weary never,

Strengthen Thou th' oppress'd,

In Thy shadow, Lord, for ever

Let me gently rest.

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