Abide with me

The new background I have chosen is the same as a postcard I bought off of etsy . it is from the song Abide with me. the fourth verse is highlighted because it matches the postcard which was printed in the 1900s and hails from England.
The lyrics go

1. bide 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.
2. 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.
3. I need Thy presence every passing hour;
   What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
   Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
   Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.
4. I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
   Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
   Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
   I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
5. Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
   Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
   Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
                                      In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me                                                                            
   This song is very appropriate because the fourth verse asks Oh death where is thou sting, where is the victory in the grave. Death is nothing. The
   

   

   Victorians believed in the glory of gods saving grace and we would see each other again. 
   A Poem that goes along the same lines 
   
   
   

   Where is thy sting, O Death!
   Grave! where thy victory?
   The clod may sleep in dust beneath,
   The spirit will be free!
   
   
   Both Man and Time have power
   O'er suffering, dying men;
   But Death arrives, and in that hour
   The soul is freed again.
   
   
   'Tis comforting to think,
   When sufferings tire us most,
   In the rough stream the bark will sink,
   And suff'ring's power is lost.
   
   
   Then, Death! where is thy sting?
   And where thy victory, Grave?
   O'er your dark bourn the soul will spring
   To Him who loves to save.
   by
   
   

   
   

   John Bowring

     

   Here is the hymn itself