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Transcription: 93487 At even, ere the sun was set,
The sick, O Lord, around thee lay;
93488 O in what divers pains they met! O with what joy they went away!
93489 Once more 'tis eventide, and we, Oppressed with various ills, draw near;
93490 What if thy form we cannot see?
We know and feel that thou art here.
93491 O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel; For some are sick, and some are sad,
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