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. | |