Thou to whom the sick and dy­ing
Ever came, nor came in vain,
Still with heal­ing word re­ply­ing,
To the wea­ried cry of pain,
Hear us, Je­su, as we meet
Suppliants at Thy mer­cy seat.

Every care and ev­ery sor­row,
Be it great, or be it small,
Yesterday, to­day, to­mor­row,
When, wher­e’er it may be fall,
Lay we hum­bly at Thy feet,
Suppliants at Thy mer­cy seat.

Still the wea­ry, sick, and dying
Need a bro­ther’s, sis­ter’s care,
On Thy high­er help re­ly­ing
May we now their bur­dens share,
Bringing all our of­fer­ings meet
Suppliants at Thy mer­cy seat.

May each child of Thine be will­ing
Willing both in hand and heart,
All the law of love ful­fill­ing,
Ever com­fort to im­part;
Ever bring­ing of­fer­ings meet,
Suppliant to Thy mer­cy seat.

So may sick­ness, sin, and sad­ness
To Thy heal­ing vir­tue yield,
Till the sick and sad, in glad­ness,
Rescued, ran­somed, cleans­èd, healed,
One in Thee to­ge­ther meet,
Pardoned at Thy judg­ment seat.