Lord Je­sus Christ, true Man and God,
Who borest ang­uish, scorn, the rod,
And diedst at last up­on the tree,
To bring Thy Fa­ther’s grace to me;
I pray Thee through that bit­ter woe,
Let me, a sin­ner, mer­cy know.

When comes the hour of fail­ing breath.
And I must wres­tle, Lord, with death,
When from my sight all fades away,
And when my tongue no more can say,
And when mine ears no more can hear,
And when my heart is racked with fear;

When all my mind is dark­ened o’er,
And hu­man help can do no more,
Then come, Lord Je­sus, come with speed,
And help me in my hour of need,
Lead me from this dark vale be­neath,
And short­en then the pangs of death.

All ev­il spir­its drive away,
But let Thy Spir­it with me stay
Until my soul the bo­dy leave;
Then in Thy hands my soul re­ceive,
And let the earth my bo­dy keep,
Until the Last Day break its sleep.

Joyful my re­sur­rect­ion be,
Thou in the judg­ment plead for me,
And hide my sins, Lord, from Thy face,
And give me Life of Thy dear grace!
I trust Thee ut­ter­ly, my Lord,
For Thou hast pro­mised in Thy Word:

“In truth I tell you, who re­ceives
My word, and keeps it, and be­lieves,
Shall ne­ver fall God’s wrath be­neath,
Shall ne­ver taste eter­nal death;
Though here on earth, in time, he die,
He is not there­fore lost; for I

Will come, and with a migh­ty hand
Will break away death’s strong­est band.
And lift him hence that he shall be
For ev­er in My realm with Me,
For ev­er liv­ing there in bliss.
Ah let us not that glo­ry miss!

Dear Lord, for­give us all our guilt,
Help us to wait un­til Thou wilt
That we de­part; and let our faith
Be brave and con­quer e’en in death,
Firm rest­ing on Thy sac­red Word,
Until we sleep in Thee, our Lord.