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, its glories pass away.
Change and decay in all around I see -
you never change, O Lord, abide with me.

I need your presence every passing hour;
what but your grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like yourself, my guide and strength can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I have no fear, with you at hand to bless;
ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, your victory?
I triumph still, if you abide with me.

Hold now your 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.

words: Henry Francis Lyte
These words are only slightly adapted from the original, and are therefore public domain