Classic Poem

I WALKED the silent wood alone,
A low breeze murmured by;
I thought upon G OD'Sonly Son ,
Who left His Throne on high,
Moved by a love divine and true,
Our flesh to take, our souls renew.

I thought upon that desert drear,—
The fainting footsteps slow,
The tempting fiend forever near,
The hunger, thirst, and woe;
The calm reproof, the patient faith,
That shamed the king of sin and death.

I thought upon that garden still,
The blood-drops falling there,
The sleeping friends, the moonlight chill,
The agony of prayer:—
“The wine-press must I tread alone?
My F ATHER , let Thy Will be done!”

I thought upon the Judgment Hall,
Where the meek Victim stood,
While rulers, kings, priests, people, all,
Were clamoring for His Blood;
And loud and fierce rang out the cry,
To crucify!—To crucify!

I thought upon that steep ascent,
Where, in the early morn,
Bearing His Cross, the Saviour went,
Scourged, bleeding, crowned with thorn;
While cruel scorners mocked His pain,
And women wrung their hands in vain.

I thought upon that lofty hill,
Where, lifted up on high,
Suffering His Heavenly F ATHER'S Will,
The Lamb was left, to die;
Even of His F ATHER'S love bereft,—
Alone,—that suffering Lamb was left.

The wine-press Thou hast trod alone,
O Lamb of G OD , for me;
And to my spirit thou hast shown
How I must follow Thee:
Of human love to mourn the loss,
And, all alone, to bear Thy cross.

Give me Thy S PIRIT , gracious Lord;
Thy patience, strong and still;
And faith, to magnify Thy Word;
And love, to do Thy Will:
So, when I come before Thy Throne,
I never more must walk alone!