'Tis midnight; and on Olives' brow
1
'Tis midnight; and on Olives' browThe star is dimmed that lately shone:'Tis midnight; in the garden, now,The suffering Saviour prays alone.
2
'T is midnight; and from all removed,The Saviour wrestles lone with fears;E'en that disciple whom he lovedHeeds not his Master's grief and tears.
3
'T is midnight; and for others' guiltThe Man of sorrows weeps in blood;Yet he who hath in anguish knelt,Is not forsaken by his God.
4
'T is midnight; and from ether plainsIs borne the song that angels know;Unheard by mortals are the strainsThat sweetly soothe the Saviour's woe.