HYMN
.
WHAT
thoughts
come
to
the
Christian's
aid
,
Upon
a
bed
of
sickness
laid
,
While
nightly
watchers
silence
keep
,
Or
close
their
weary
eyes
to
sleep
,
When
lamp
and
faggots
waste
away
,
As
dimly
dawns
approaching
day
?
"
Though
here
this
frame
of
dust
may
end
,
My
spirit
shall
to
God
ascend
,
And
,
for
his
sake
who
died
to
save
Poor
sinners
from
a
hopeless
grave
,
With
all
her
sins
and
faults
forgiven
,
A
peaceful
shelter
find
in
heaven
;
A
Father's
house
,
a
home
of
love
,
Praised
be
his
name
,
all
praise
above
!
Who
,
even
in
ruin
,
loved
us
still
,
And
would
not
soul
and
body
kill
!
And
blessed
be
His
generous
Son
,
Who
has
for
us
such
mercy
won
!
His
gospel
sheds
a
cheering
light
Upon
our
darkling
way
,
through
dreary
night
.
A
gleam
falls
from
a
severed
cloud
,
Upon
the
coffin
,
and
the
shroud
;
While
,
high
in
air
,
with
buoyant
swell
,
Sounds
like
a
friendly
call
,
the
passing
bell
.
"