Harriet Beecher Stowe

Abide in Me, and I in You

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.
Fulfil at once thy precept and my prayer,--
  Come, and abide in me, and I in thee.