Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.@Luke 24:29
portrait
John B. Dykes (1823–1876)

Car­o­line L. Smith, 1852. Smith was in­spired to write this hymn af­ter hear­ing a ser­mon by Hen­ry M. Dex­ter of Bos­ton on The Adapt­ed­ness of Re­li­gion to the Wants of the Aged. The words were re­cast in the Ply­mouth Col­lec­tion, 1855, and Songs of the Church, 1862.

St. Syl­ves­ter John B. Dykes, 1862 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Tarry with me, O my Savior,
For the day is passing by;
See! the shades of evening gather,
And the night is drawing nigh.

Deeper, deeper grow the shadows,
Paler now the glowing west,
Swift the night of death advances;
Shall it be the night of rest?

Lonely seems the vale of shadow;
Sinks my heart with troubled fear;
Give me faith for clearer vision,
Speak Thou, Lord, in words of cheer.

Let me hear Thy voice behind me,
Calming all these wild alarms;
Let me, underneath my weakness,
Feel the everlasting arms.

Feeble, trembling, fainting, dying,
Lord, I cast myself on Thee;
Tarry with me through the darkness;
While I sleep, still watch by me.

Tarry with me, O my Savior,
Lay my head upon Thy breast
Till the morning; then awake me—
Morning of eternal rest.

Here is Smith’s orig­in­al ver­sion, which can be sung to the fol­low­ing tunes:

Tarry with me, O my Saviour!
For the day is passing by;
See, the shades of evening gather,
And the night is drawing nigh;
Tarry with me—tarry with me;
Pass me not unheeded by!

Many friends were gathered round me,
In the bright days of the past;
But the grave has closed above them,
And I linger here the last!
I am lonely: tarry with me
Till this dreary night is past.

Dimmed for me is earthly beauty;
Yet the spirit’s eye would fain
Rest upon Thy lovely features:
Shall I seek, dear Lord, in vain?
Tarry with me, O my Saviour!
Let me see Thy smile again.

Dull my ear to earth-born music:
Speak thou, Lord! in words of cheer;
Feeble, tottering my footstep,
Sinks my heart with sudden fear:
Cast thine arms, dear Lord! around me,
Let me feel Thy presence near.

Faithful memory paints before me
Every deed and thought of sin;
Open thou the blood-filled fountain,
Cleanse my guilty soul within:
Tarry, thou forgiving Saviour!
Wash me wholly from my sin.

Deeper, deeper grow the shadows;
Paler now the glowing west;
Swift the night of death advances—
Shall it be a night of rest?
Tarry with me, O my Saviour!
Lay my head upon Thy breast.

Feeble, trembling, panting, dying,
Lord! I cast myself on Thee:
Tarry with me through the darkness,
While I sleep, still watch by me,
Till the morning—then awake me
Dearest Lord! to dwell with Thee.