Poems by Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847)
"Abide With Me"
Abide with me: fast falls the eventide:
The darkness deepens: Lord with me abide:
When other helpers fall, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day:
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.
I need thy presence every passing hour;
What but thy grace can fil the tempter's pow'r?
Who like thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me.
I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.
Hold thou the cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom, and poing me to they skies:
Heav'n's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord abide with me.