As when the golden morning calls.
This peace our Savior wrought for us
In agony upon the cross,
And when He up to heaven soared,
His peace He left us in His word.
His word of peace new strength imparts
Each day to faint and troubled hearts,
And in His cup and at the font
It stills our deepest need and want.
This blessed peace our Lord will give
To all who in His Spirit live.
And even at their dying breath
Its comfort breaks the sting of death.
When Christ for us His peace hath won
He asked for faith and faith alone.
By faith and not by merits vain,
Our hearts God’s blessed peace obtain.
Peace be with you, our Savior saith
In answer to the word of faith.
Whoso hath faith, shall find release
And dwell in God’s eternal peace.
Grundtvig’s hymns of comfort for the sick and dying rank with the finest ever written. He hates and fears death, hoping even that Christ may return before his own hour comes; but if He does not, he prays that the Savior will be right with
him.
Lord, when my final hours impend,
Come in the person of a friend
And take Thy place beside me,
And talk to me as man to man
Of where we soon shall meet again
And all Thy joy betide me.
For though he knows he cannot master the enemy alone, if the Savior is there—
Death is but the last pretender
We with Christ as our defender
Shall engage and put to flight.
And His word will dispel all fear of the struggle:
Like dew upon the meadow
So falls the word of life
On Christians in the shadow
Of mortal’s final strife.
The first fruit of its blessing
Is balm for fears distressing,
