IN fiery chariots of the west ascending,
The day hath passed in triumph, Lord, to Thee!
Its fallen mantle glows with twilight blending
On the far shadowy spaces of the sea.
It is toward evening. Oft at noontide roaming,
Our hearts have met with Thee in sweet accord;
Now in the peace and leisure of the gloaming
Abide with us, O Lord! The ocean like a dreamless child is sleeping,
Hushed in the hollow of Thy mighty hand;
One star a-tremble in the west is keeping
Lone watch on all night's silent border-land.
Enter, dear Lord, our loaf is yet unbroken,
Our water shall be wine by Thee outpoured;
We yearn to hear Thy “Peace be with you” spoken;
Abide with us, O Lord! Low murmurs through the seaward boughs are wafted,
A breath of roses steals along the shore;
More calm, more sweet, Thy loving words engrafted
In our responsive hearts for evermore.
Yet more we crave: O, tarry in our leisure!
And to the longing of our souls afford
Thy love and joy in overflowing measure.
Abide with us, O Lord! It is toward evening. Soon from out the shadows
A deeper shadow on our brows must fall.
So soon across the dim familiar meadows
The hour will come when we must leave them all.
Ah! leave us not within the grave's dark portal;
Scatter death's terrors with Thy mighty Word;
Bid us come forth, and glorified, immortal,
Abide with Thee, O Lord.