290 A Hymn Written in the Shadows
Henry Francis Lyte, 1847.
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! | 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 foil the tempter’s power? 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 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! | |