582 When my last hour is close at hand,

1 When my last hour is close at hand, Lord Jesus Christ, attend me; Beside my bed, my Savior, stand, To comfort, help, defend me: Into Thy hands I will commend My trembling soul at my last end, - How safe in Thy sweet keeping! 2 Countless as sands upon the shore, My sins are thronging round me; But though they grieve and wound me sore, They cannot yet confound me; My sins are numberless, I know, But o'er them all Thy blood doth flow, Thy wounds and death uphold me. 3 Lord, Thou hast joined my soul to Thine, In bonds no power can sever; Grafted in Thee, the living vine, I shall be Thine forever. Lord, when I die, I die to Thee, Thy precious death hath won for me A life that never endeth. 4 Since Thou hast risen from the grave, The grave cannot detain me; "Christ died," -"Christ rose again" to save; These words shall still sustain me; For where Thou art, there I shall be, That I may ever live with Thee: This is my joy in dying. 5 To Thee, Lord Jesus Christ, I will With arms outstretched betake me; I sleep in Thee - so sound - so still, No mortal man can wake me! For Jesus Christ, God's Son, I wait To open me the heavenly gate, Which leads to life eternal.