"Abide with Me, Fast Falls the Eventide"
Words by Henry Lyte
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, Lord, abide with me
I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have not 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.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
"The harvest is plentiful . . . "
Unreached village in central Bosnia
No comments:
Post a Comment