Abide With Me

Abide With Me
(words by Henry Francis Lyte, 1793-1847)

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, abide with me

Thou on my head, in early youth didst smile
And though rebellious, and perverse meanwhile
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee
On to the close Lord, 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, abide with me

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless
Ills have no weight, tears lose their bitterness
Where is thy sting death? Where grace thy victory?
I triumph still, 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, Lord, abide with me.