1 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, O abide with me!
2 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!
3 I need thy presence every passing hour;
What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who like thy self my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sun shine, O abide with me!
4 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.
5 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, O Lord, abide with me!
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Abide with me; fast falls the eventide |
Author: | Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847) |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1986 |
Topic: | Means of grace: Family worship - Evening |