Abide With Me

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Abide with me; fast falls the eventide:

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide:

When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,

Help of the Helpless, 0 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:

0 thou who changest not, abide with me.

 

I need thy presence every passing hour;

What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power

Who like thyself my guide and stay can be?

Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, 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 thy Cross before my closing eyes;

Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies:

Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;

In life, in death 0 Lord, abide with me.

H. F. Lyte
(1793 – 1847)


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