{
  "title": "At even, when the sun was set",
  "author": "",
  "tune": "Angelus",
  "number": "336",
  "lyrics": "At even, when the sun was set,\nThe sick, O Lord, around thee lay;\nO in what divers pains they met!\nO with what joy they went away!\n\nOnce more 'tis eventide, and we,\nOppressed with various ills, draw near:\nWhat if thy form we cannot see;\nWe know and feel that thou art here.\n\nO Saviour Christ, our woes dispel:\nFor some are sick, and some are sad,\nAnd some have never loved thee well,\nAnd some have lost the love they had;\n\nAnd none, O Lord, have perfect rest,\nFor none are wholly free from sin;\nAnd they who fain would serve thee best\nAre conscious most of wrong within.\n\nO Saviour Christ, thou too art man,\nThou hast been troubled, tempted, tried;\nThy kind but searching glance can scan\nThe very wounds that shame would hide.\n\nThy touch has still its ancient pow'r;\nNo word from thee can fruitless fall:\nHear in this solemn evening hour,\nAnd in thy mercy heal us all.",
  "first_line": "At even, when the sun was set,"
}