When my last hour is close at hand And I must hence betake me, Lord Jesus Christ, beside me stand, Nor let Thy help forsake me; To Thy blest hands I now commend My soul, at this my earthly end, And Thou wilt safely keep it. 2. My sins, dear Lord, disturb me sore, My conscience cannot slumber; But though as sands upon the shore My sins may be in number, I will not quail, but think of Thee; Thy death, Thy sorrow, borne for me, Thy sufferings, shall uphold me. 3. I have been grafted in the Vine And hence my comfort borrow, For Thou wilt surely keep me Thine Through fear and pain and sorrow; Yea, though I die, I die to Thee, Who through Thy death hast won for me The right to life eternal. 4. Since Thou from death didst rise again, In death Thou wilt not leave me; Lord, Thy ascension soothes my pain, No fear of death shall grieve me; For Thou wilt have me where Thou art, And so with joy I can depart To be with Thee forever. 5. And so I stretch mine arms to Thee And gladly hence betake me; Peaceful and calm my sleep shall be, No human voice can wake me. But Christ is with me through the strife, And He will bear me into life And open heaven before me. Nikolaus Herman, 1560; C. Winkworth, tr., a. 529 7, 6, 7, 6 For me to live is Jesus, To die is gain for me, To Him I gladly yield me And die right cheerfully. 2. From hence I go with gladness To Christ my Brother’s side That I may soon be with Him And e’er with Him abide. 3. I have o’ercome life’s crosses; Grief, pain, and sorrow cease; Through His five wounds most holy With God I am at peace. 4. When all my powers are breaking, My breath comes heavily, Nor word more I can utter, Lord, hear my sighs to Thee! 5. When reason, sense, and thinking Fail like a flickering light, That to and fro doth waver Ere ’tis extinguished quite, 6. Then let me softly, gently, Lord, fall asleep in Thee, When by Thy will and counsel My last hour comes to me. 7. As to the oak the ivy, So let me cleave to Thee And live in heavenly glory With Thee eternally. 8. Amen! This wilt Thou, Jesus, Grant graciously to me; Endow me with Thy Spirit That I die happily. Anon., 1609; E. Cronenwett, tr., 1880. 530 8, 7, 8, 7, 8, 8, 7, 7 Hark! a voice saith, “All are mortal.” Yea, all flesh must fade as grass, Only through death’s gloomy portal To a better land we pass; This frail body here must perish Ere the heavenly joys it cherish, Ere it gain the free reward For the ransomed of the Lord.