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  • Abide with Me

    Set 12 2005, 19h40

    Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847)

    Abide with Me


    "Abide with us: for it is towards evening, and the day is far spent."
    Luke xxiv.29


    Abide with me! Fast falls the Eventide;
    The darkness thickens. Lord, with me abide
    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 dwellst 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 did 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!


    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 then thy cross before my closing eyes;
    Speak 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!
  • meow meow meow

    Ago 23 2005, 23h08

    Molly Peacock (1947-)

    Altruism


    What if we got outside ourselves and there
    really was an outside out there, not just
    our insides turned inside out? What if there
    really were a you beyond me, not just
    the waves off my own fire, like those waves off
    the backyard grill you can see the next yard through,
    though not well -- just enough to know that off
    to the right belongs to someone else, not you.
    What if, when we said I love you, there were
    a you to love as there is a yard beyond
    to walk past the grill and get to? To endure
    the endless walk through the self, knowing through a bond
    that has no basis (for ourselves are all we know)
    is altruism: not giving, but coming to know
    someone is there through the wavy vision
    of the self's heat, love becomes a decision.