Catherine Winkworth · 127 of 207

At the Approach of Death

That Death is at my door, too well this anguish shows, Yet I will fear him not. I bear Thee in my heart, Thou, O Lord Jesu Christ, with me, nay, in me, art, And if I die, Thou wilt the gates of heaven unclose.

Why was Thy glorious form so marred, so sadly torn? Only that I with Thee may know the depths of joy Throughout etemity. Thou dying didst destroy The sting of Death, and make our foe an empty scorn.

Ah then forsake me not! Hast Thou not cleansed me From all the filth of sin wherewith I was defiled By th' arch-deceiver's arts? Then let me as a child Now fall asleep in peace, and wake in joy with Thee.

Der Tod klopft an bei mir, dass