Abide With Me From Morn To Eve,

New Every Morning Is The Love Our Waking And Uprising Prove, Through Sleep And Darkness Safely Brought, Restored To Life And Power And Thought.

God Hath Sworn To Lift On High Who Sinks Himself By True Humility.

When The Shore Is Won At Last, Who Will Count The Billow Past?

Love Masters Agony; The Soul That Seemed Forsaken Feels Her Present God Again And In Her Father's Arms Contented Dies Away.

Soft As Memnon's Harp At Morning, To The Inward Ear Devout, Touched By Light, With Heavenly Warning Your Transporting Chords Ring Out. Every Leaf In Every Nook, Every Wave In Every Brook, Chanting With A Solemn Voice Minds Us Of Our Better Choice.