Lord, Thy Word Abideth Ever

Lord

Thy Word abid­eth ev­er

Swift to suc­cor

sure to save

If with faith’s su­preme en­dea­vor

We Thy pro­mised mer­cy crave:

Let its glo­ry

Light the dark­ness of the grave!

Sweetest peace and con­so­la­tion

Dwell for ev­er in that word;

For its tid­ings of sal­va­tion

Tell us of a pro­mised Lord

Throned in Heav­en

By an­gel­ic hosts ad­ored.

There the pro­phet’s glow­ing vi­sion

Shows the joy of lat­ter days;

There the wise man’s just de­ci­sion

Guides our feet o’er earth’s dark ways;

All its pag­es

Shine with truth’s im­mor­tal rays.

There we read the won­drous sto­ry

Of the Babe of Beth­le­hem

Crucified

but crowned with glo­ry

Promised rod of Jes­se’s stem;

Soon to meet us

Decked with roy­al di­adem.

Lord

be this our con­so­la­tion

When earth’s joy shall pass away;

In death’s hour of tri­bu­lation

In the aw­ful judg­ment day:

Heavens may van­ish

But Thy Word shall stand for aye!