ABIDE WITH ME
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 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.
Tune: EVENTIDE Words by Henry F. Lyte, 1847, music by William H. Monk, 1861.
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