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Henry Francis Lyte

Henry Francis Lyte was born at Ednam, near Kelso, Scotland in 1793, the second son of Thomas and Anna Maria Lyte. It is believed by some that their marriage was a common law arrangement. When Henry was very young, his father abandoned the family. Shortly after, Henry’s mother passed away, leaving him an orphan.

Henry was taken in by the headmaster of his school and raised. In time, Henry went off to the prestigious Trinity College Dublin. While there, he was awarded the English Prize Poem on three occasions. His intention was to study medicine, but instead felt called to the ministry.

Accordingly, he prepared to become an Anglican minister. It was during this formative time that Henry was called to the bedside of a fellow clergyman, William Augustus Le Hunte, who was dying. There was little solace to offer. The man died shortly after. The entire experience was deeply affecting for Henry and he never read the scriptures the same after that, especially as his dying friend had repeatedly pleaded with Henry to “Abide with Me.” It is said by some that Henry was inspired by those words and wrote the first verses of a poem entitled “Abide with Me”. The year was 1820.

In 1824, Henry became the minister in Brixham, a coastal fishing village in Devon. The unusually tall, handsome clergyman was an instant draw. So powerful and personal was his charm and style of preaching that it became necessary to add onto the church to accommodate all who wanted to hear him. Lyte was a man “noted for his wit and human understanding, a born poet and an able scholar. He was an expert flute player and according to his great-grandson, always had his flute with him. Lyte spoke Latin, Greek, and French, enjoyed discussing literature, and was knowledgeable about wildflowers.”

Yet, Henry suffered with ill health all his life. Eventually, the chronic weakness of his lungs turned into tuberculosis, yet Henry pressed on as a devoted servant to his people and his family. He was often heard to say, “It is better to wear out than to rust out.”

In the 1840’s, England was rife with religious dissension. It came home to Henry’s parish when a number of his congregants left him, including at one point, his entire choir. That abandonment coupled with his declining health brought him to ponder deeply. It was after this that he wrote a poem in which he voiced the desire to write a hymn that would never die. It reads in part:

“Some simple straw, some spirit-moving lay, some sparkles of the soul that still might live when I was passed to clay…O thou! Whose touch can lend life to the dead, thy quickening grace supply, and grant me, swanlike, my last breath to spend in song that may not die!”

Henry’s health continued to decline until early September 1847, when he announced to his family that he wanted to preach to his congregation one last time before he went on holiday to Italy. His family protested that the strain would be too much for him. However, he persisted and preached a memorable and magnificent sermon.

That same afternoon, Henry Francis Lyte went for a peaceful walk on the trails that bordered the sea. When he returned home, he retired to his room and a short time later came out and gave to his family the poem that some believe he started in 1820 and finished with meaning in 1847. It was the poem from the heart of a man, terminally ill, in the late evening of life who had known what it was like to be abandoned—”Abide with Me.”

Abide with me! fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens. Lord, with me abide!
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day.
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away.
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me!

I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!

Henry Francis Lyte died shortly thereafter in 1847. The last words on his lips as he passed were “Peace. Joy!” He never made it to his desired destination of Italy, but he did write the song that would live on and inspire billions.

Sources:
https://anglicancompass.com/the-story-of-our-hymns-abide-with-me-by-henry-francis-lyte/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Francis_Lyte
https://www.challies.com/articles/hymn-stories-abide-with-me/