The Soul'S Answer

That mystic word of thine, O sovereign Lord, Is all too pure, too high, too deep for me; Weary of striving, and with longing faint, I breathe it back again in prayer to thee.

Abide in me, I pray, and I in thee; From this good hour, O leave me nevermore; Then shall the discord cease, the wound be healed, The lifelong bleeding of the soul be o'er.

Abide in me; o'ershadow by thy love Each half-formed purpose and dark thought of sin; Quench, e'er it rise, each selfish, low desire, And keep my soul as thine, calm and divine.

As some rare perfume in a vase of clay Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, So, when thou dwellest in a mortal soul, All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown.

Abide in me: there have been moments blest When I have heard thy voice and felt thy power; Then evil lost its grasp, and passion, hushed, Owned the divine enchantment of the hour.

These were but seasons, beautiful and rare; Abide in me, and they shall ever be. Fulfill at once thy precept and my prayer,-- Come, and abide in me, and I in thee.