Henry Francis Lyte
Henry Francis Lyte Poems
- A Lost Love I meet thy pensive, moonlight face; Thy ...
- God Of Mercy, God Of Grace God of mercy, God of grace, Show...
- Abide With Me Abide with us: for it is towards evening, ...
- Far From My Heavenly Home Far from my heavenly home, Far ...
- Declining Days Why do I sigh to find Life's evening shadows...
- Praise, My Soul, The King Of H... Praise, my soul, the King...
- When At Thy Footstool, Lord, I... When at Thy footstool, ...
Henry Francis Lyte was a Scottish Anglican divine and hymn-writer.
Henry Francis Lyte was born to Thomas and Anna Maria Lyte on a farm at Ednam, near Kelso, Scotland. Thomas deserted the family shortly after making arrangements for his two oldest sons to attend Portora Royal School in Enniskillen, County Fermanagh; and Anna moved to London, where both she and her youngest son died.
The headmaster at Portora, Dr. Robert Burrowes, recognized Henry Lyte's ability, paid the boy’s fees, and "welcomed him into his own family during the holidays." Lyte was effectively an adopted son.
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Comments about Henry Francis Lyte
A Lost Love
I meet thy pensive, moonlight face;
Thy thrilling voice I hear;
And former hours and scenes retrace,
Too fleeting, and too dear!
Then sighs and tears flow fast and free,
Though none is nigh to share;
And life has nought beside for me
So sweet as this despair.
There are crush'd hearts that will not break;
And mine, methinks, is one;
Or thus I should not weep and wake,
And thou to slumber gone.
I little thought it thus could be
In days more sad and fair
That earth could have a place for me,
And thou no longer there.
Yet death ...