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If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.

Watch by the sick: enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night,
Like infants' slumbers, pure and light.

Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take:
Till in the ocean of Thy love

We lose ourselves in heaven above.

TUNE-"HURSLEY."

112-ABIDE WITH ME.

THIS was the Swan Song of the Rev. H. F. Lyte. He produced it on the evening of the Sunday on which he preached his last sermon. It is generally used as an evening hymn. It was not so intended. It refers to the evening of life, not of the day, and is more of a hymn for the dying than for those about to renew their strength by a night's rest. It was sung at the burial of Professor Maurice, and is in constant use throughout the English-speaking world. Lyte is buried in Nice, and his grave is still sometimes sought out by pilgrims from far across the seas who attribute their conversion to this hymn.

A

BIDE with me, fast falls the eventide :

The darkness thickens: 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:

O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell'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, thus 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, 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, 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.

TUNE- -"EVENTIDE." Mrs. Mona Caird's three favourite hymns are," Lead, Kindly Light," "As pants the Hart," and "Abide with me." "These three," she says, "possess for me the stay and power of succour. They seem to refer me back to the great unknown in which and in whom all of us believe, whatever name we may give to our divinity."

113-AT EVEN, ERE THE SUN WAS SET. EVENING hymns are much more popular than those for morning use. And among evening hymns few are better known or more used than this, written by Canon Twells in 1868.

T the sun was set,

A even, ere, O Lord, around Thee lay;

O in what divers pains they met !
O with what joy they went away!
Once more 't is eventide, and we,
Oppressed with various ills, draw near.
What if thy form we cannot see?

We know and feel that Thou art here.
O 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.
And some are pressed with worldly care,
And some are tried with sinful doubt;
And some such grievous passions tear
That only Thou canst cast them out.
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.
And none, O Lord, have perfect rest,
For none are wholly free from sin;
And they who fain would serve Thee best,
Are conscious most of wrong within.
O 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 :

Thy touch has still its ancient power;
No word from Thee can fruitless fall;
Hear in this solemn evening hour,

And in thy mercy heal us all.

TUNE "ANGELUS.

William Johnston, M.P., the well-known Orange leader, said: "No hymn now touches me more than that pathetic one, ' At Even, ere the Sun was set;' the verse beginning, O Saviour Christ' would be too painful but for the Healer's power."

114-SAVIOUR, AGAIN TO THY DEAR

NAME.

THIS evening hymn is the most popular of all the hymns of the Rev. John Ellerton. He wrote it for a festival of parochial choirs in Nantwich in 1866, and in less than thirty years it has sung its way around the world.

AVIOUR, again to Thy dear name we raise

SAV

With one accord our parting hymn of praise; We stand to bless Thee ere our worship cease, Then, lowly kneeling, wait Thy word of peace.

Grant us Thy peace through this approaching night;

Turn Thou for us its darkness into light;

From harm and danger keep Thy children free,
For dark and light are both alike to Thee.

Grant us Thy peace upon our homeward way;
With Thee began, with Thee shall end the day;
Guard Thou the lips from sin, the hearts from
shame,

That in this house have call'd upon Thy name.

Grant us Thy peace throughout our earthly life,
Our balm in sorrow, and our stay in strife;
Then, when Thy voice shall bid our conflict cease,
Call us, O Lord, to Thine eternal peace.

TUNE "PAX DEI."

115-SWEET SAVIOUR, BLESS US ERE

WE GO.

THIS is Faber's evening hymn. Faber published it in 1852, six years after he quitted the English for the Roman Church.

WEET Saviour, bless us ere we go;

SWE

Thy word into our minds instil;

And make our lukewarm hearts to glow
With lowly love and fervent will.

Through life's long day and death's dark night,
O gentle Jesus, be our light.

Grant us, dear Lord, from evil ways
True absolution and release;
And bless us more than in past days
With purity and inward peace.

Through life's long day and death's dark night,
O gentle Jesus, be our light.

Do more than pardon; give us joy,
Sweet fear and sober liberty;
And loving hearts without alloy,
That only long to be like thee.

Through life's long day and death's dark night,
O gentle Jesus, be our light.

Labour is sweet, for thou hast toiled;

And care is light, for thou hast cared;

Let not our works with self be soiled,

Nor in unsimple ways insnared.

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