Lord Jesus, make Thy face to shine
Upon my humble bed;
And bless a little lamb of Thine
For whom Thy blood was shed.
I soon may die: I am so ill;
Scarce can I speak or move:
Make me resigned to all thy will,
For all Thy will is love.
There’s nothing now for me
Although I helpless am,
For, Jesus, Thou art ever near
To guard Thy little lamb.
Lord Jesus, ‘tis Thy gentle hand
Supports my sinking head;
While waiting angels round me stand,
To smooth my dying bed.
ML 03/26/1922