11 (FIRST TUNE) L. M. HURSLEY P. Ritter mf J-92. Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear, It is not night if Thou be near; mf O may no earth born cloud a- rise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes. A MEN. P 2 When the soft dews of kindly sleep My weary eyelids gently steep, Be my last thought, how sweet to rest For ever on my Saviour's breast. mf 3 Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live; dim Abide with me when night is nigh, p For without Thee I dare not die. p 4 If some poor wandering child of Thine Have spurned to-day the voice divine. (SECOND TUNE) mf Now, Lord, the gracious work begin; Let him no more lie down in sin. mf 5 Watch by the sick; enrich the poor With blessings from Thy boundless store; Be every mourner's sleep to-night, p Like infant's slumbers, pure and light. cr 6 Come near and bless us when we wake Ere through the world our way we take f Till in the ocean of Thy love We lose ourselves in heaven above. J. Keble ABENDS H. S. Oakeley L. M. P = 84. Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear, It is not night if Thou be near; P O may no earth-born cloud a-rise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes. A-MEN. p 2 Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; mf O Thou who changest not, (p) abide with me. f 3 I need Thy presence every passing hour; cr What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? f Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, (p) abide with me. f 4 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, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. p 5 Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes: cr Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies: f Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee: H. F. Lyte p 2 Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; mf O Thou, Who changest not, (p) abide with me. er What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? f Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, (p) abide with me. f 4 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, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. p 5 Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes; cr Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies; H. F. Lyte J-90. At even, when the sun was set, The sick, O Lord, a round Thee lay; mf mf O in what di- vers pains they met! O with what joy they went a-way. A-MEN. mf 2 Once more 't is eventide, and we Oppress'd with various ills draw near; What if Thy form we cannot see? cr We know and feel that Thou art here. mf 3 0 Saviour Christ, our woes dispel; For some are sick, and some are sad. And some have never loved Thee well, And some have lost the love they had. mf 4 And some have found the world is vain, Yet from the world they break not free, And some have friends who give them pain, Yet have not sought a friend in Thee. p mf 5 And none, O Lord, have perfect rest, For none are wholly free from sin; And they who fain would love Thee best Are conscious most of wrong within. mf 6 0 Saviour Christ, Thou too art Man; Thou hast been troubled, tempted, tried, Thy kind but searching glance can scan The very wounds that shame would hide. f7 Thy touch has still its ancient power; No word from Thee can fruitless fall; Hear, in this solemn evening hour, cr And in Thy mercy heal us all. |