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Abide

Thy penetrating Spirit comes
And quickens to the core;
To steady one who pendulums,
His balance to restore.

Abide; remain; continue on;
Hold fast my wavering will.
May calm assurance, Gilead’s balm,
Be mine tomorrow still.

My heart, now softened, loves this state;
‘Eschews the hardening ways
Of daily struggles, small and great,
That seem to fill my days.

Abide; remain; Thou Constant One;
Life’s dark when Thou art gone;
Replace my dusks, Thou Brilliant Son,
With Thy eternal dawn.

Picture of Wes Stephenson

Wes Stephenson

Author, motorcyclist, poet, and adventurer. Let's journey together.

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