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SICILIAN MARINERS' HYMN. 8s, 7s. 61.

SICILIAN MELODY.

1. Lord, dis - miss us with Thy blessing, Fill our

hearts with

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J. Fawcett. 1743.

(Second Tune.)

STÖRL. 8,7,8,7, 4, 7.

J. H. C. STÖRL. 1744.

1. Lord, dismiss us with Thy bless-ing;

Fill our hearts with joy and peace;

Let

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us each, Thy love possessing, Triumph in re deeming grace;

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J. Fawcett. 1743.

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Sin and want we come confess - ing; Thou canst save and Thou canst heal.

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Thou art He who, never wea - ry, Watchest where Thy people be.

A-men.

2 Though destruction walk around us,
Though the arrows past us fly,
Angel guards from Thee surround us;
We are safe if Thou art nigh.
Should swift death this night o'ertake us,
And our couch become our tomb,
May the morn in heaven awake us,

Clad in bright and deathless bloom.

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3 Father, to Thy holy keeping Humbly we ourselves resign; Saviour, who hast slept our sleeping, Make our slumbers pure as Thine; Blessed Spirit, brooding o'er us,

Chase the darkness of our night, Till the perfect day before us Breaks in everlasting light.

J. Edmeston. 1820. V. 3 added by E. H. Bickersteth. 1876.

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com-forts flee; Help of the help-less, Oh, a bide with me.

A men.

2 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!

3 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, oh, abide with me!

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.

5 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!

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H. F. Lyte. 1847.

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2 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!
3 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, oh, abide with me!

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.

5 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.

TROYTE. 10s.

H. F. Lyte. 1847.

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