Come not in terror, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings;
With the evenings slowly drawing in, the setting sun gets noticeably earlier, and the stormy skies of the last week have added a wash of dramatic colour to the close of the day. After the calm summer months change was on its way, and as one season ends, another begins. And so it is in life, change is inevitable and so another era begins – the importance of the baton of imperceptible guidance handed from one generation to another, often taken for granted and quite different from the political equivalent, has come to the fore in the last few days. How lucky we are to have what we have – the invisible glue which binds us together as a nation, safe in the knowledge that the sun always rises again.
Sung at the wedding of Princess Elizabeth to Philip Mountbatten in 1947, ‘Abide with Me’, written 100 years prior by Henry Francis Lyte, is one of those hymns which has become synonymous with significant moments in our lives. Often sung to the tune ‘Eventide’, it is as beautiful when read as a poem.
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; 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 dwell’st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.
Come not in terror, 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, thus abide with me.
Thou on my head in early youth didst 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, Lord, 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 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.
The world still turns, life goes on, but this is not the time to include links to books in our Newsletter. But there is comfort to be found, the bookshop remains a haven of gentle calm, the website a rabbit hole in which to while away a while, and of course we always love to hear from our fellow book lovers – there is a glue which binds us together.
God Save the King
