 | Poems of home and country |  |
GETHSEMANE.
Beyond where Cedron's waters flow,
Behold the suffering Saviour go,
To sad Gethsemane.
His countenance is all divine;
Yet grief appears in every line.
Behold the suffering Saviour go,
To sad Gethsemane.
His countenance is all divine;
Yet grief appears in every line.
He bows beneath the sins of men;
He cries to God, and cries again,
In sad Gethsemane.
He lifts His mournful eyes above,—
“My Father, can this cup remove?”
He cries to God, and cries again,
In sad Gethsemane.
He lifts His mournful eyes above,—
“My Father, can this cup remove?”
With gentle resignation still,
He yielded to His Father's will,
In sad Gethsemane;
“Behold Me here, Thine only Son;
And, Father, let Thy will be done.”
He yielded to His Father's will,
In sad Gethsemane;
“Behold Me here, Thine only Son;
And, Father, let Thy will be done.”
241
The Father heard; and angels, there,
Sustained the Son of God in prayer,
In sad Gethsemane;
He drank the dreadful cup of pain,
Then rose to life and joy again.
Sustained the Son of God in prayer,
In sad Gethsemane;
He drank the dreadful cup of pain,
Then rose to life and joy again.
When storms of sorrow round us sweep,
And scenes of anguish make us weep,
To sad Gethsemane
We'll look, and see the Saviour there,
And humbly bow, like Him, in prayer.
And scenes of anguish make us weep,
To sad Gethsemane
We'll look, and see the Saviour there,
And humbly bow, like Him, in prayer.
| Poems of home and country | |