Henry Francis Lyte
Henry Francis Lyte Poems
|1.||Long Did I Toil||4/26/2012|
|2.||My Spirit On Thy Care||4/26/2012|
|3.||My God, My King, Thy Praise I Sing||4/26/2012|
|4.||Praise For Thee, Lord, In Zion Waits||1/3/2003|
|5.||O That The Lord's Salvation||1/3/2003|
|6.||Pleasant Are Thy Courts Above||1/3/2003|
|7.||Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken||1/3/2003|
|8.||There Is A Safe And Secret Place||1/3/2003|
|9.||Praise The Lord, God's Glories Show||1/3/2003|
|11.||When At Thy Footstool, Lord, I Bend||1/3/2003|
|12.||Praise, My Soul, The King Of Heaven||1/3/2003|
|13.||Far From My Heavenly Home||1/3/2003|
|14.||Abide With Me||1/3/2003|
|15.||God Of Mercy, God Of Grace||1/3/2003|
|16.||A Lost Love||1/3/2003|
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 ...
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;