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452 The Book of Praise.
So long Thy Power has blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone, And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile !
John Henry Newman. 1833.
Abide with mt! fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide j 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 !
Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word ; But, as Thou d\vell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, Familiar, condescending, patient, free, Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me !
Come not in terrors, as the King of kings ; But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea; Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide 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, O Lord,, abide with me '•