Abide with Me

Henry Francis Lyte,
William Henry Monk,
1861

Intro
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, Oh, abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim, it's glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need Thy presence ev'ry passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's pow'r?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Thro' 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, they victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me

Hold Thou Thy word 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.

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