The thrill of thy pierced hands in touch with mine.
Abide with me; so then shall I have peace
The world can never give nor take from me;
Nor life nor death can that calm peace disturb,
Since life and death alike are gain through thee.
If life, 'tis well; for though in paths of pain,
In desert place afar, I'm led aside,
Yet here 'tis joy my Master's cup to share;
And so I pray, O Christ, with me abide.
'Tis gain if death; for in that far-off land—