Mine are they by an ownership
	nor time nor death can free;
For God has given to love to keep
	its own eternally,
	its own eternally.

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 changes not, 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.
