At even when the sun was set
The sick, O Lord, around thee lay;
O in what divers pains they met!
O with what joy they went away!
Once more ’tis eventide, and we
Oppressed with various ills draw near;
What if thy form we cannot see?
We know and feel that thou art here.
O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel;
For some are sick, and some are sad,
And some have never loved thee well,
And some have lost the love they had;
O Saviour Christ, thou too art man;
Thou hast been troubled, tempted, tried;
Thy kind but searching glance can scan
The very wounds that shame would hide;
Thy touch has still its ancient power,
No word from thee can fruitless fall;
Hear in this solemn evening hour,
And in thy mercy heal us all.
H. Twells (1823 – 1900)
Believer's Brain 
I love that hymn. 🙂
I’ve never actually heard it sung, but I was reading the hymns in my old school hymn book the other day, came across it, and thought it was lovely!
Ah, we sing it at evensong sometimes. I like the tune too.