Classic Poem

The sun had sunk beneath the western slope,
The deepening shades of eve were gathering in,
The sounds were of the closing hours of day;
When neath an olive tree I, musing, sat
Within Gethsemane.

I sat and mused
Upon the awful scene that opened there.
Here , said my heart, here J ESUS knelt and prayed, —
Here , at my feet, those drops of sorrow fell
Like blood drops to the ground; here , with sad voice
He prayed: " O Father, if it be Thy will, this cup,
O, let it pass! but yet Thy will be done! "
And here the Father, yearning for His Son,
A strengthening Angel sent right from the Throne.

My answering tears fell 'neath that olive tree,
And in that darkening hour my spirit cried:
" O, Father, who didst give sustaining Grace
Unto the suffering Son, give strength to me!
I know not what's before me, — be my stay!
I cannot see before me, — give me light!
My burden is too heavy, — give me power!
My enemies are mighty, — be my shield! "

Ten years have passed, I see that place no more,
The olive tree still blooms in fatness there;
But down life's slope my rapid steps have trod,
Near to that bourne whence man cannot return.
But He who heard me in Gethsemane
Hath followed still my prayer; I have not been
One moment from His presence; never once,
In all my sorrow, all my burdens, stood
Alone, but always knew Emmanuel!
And come what may, my soul hath confidence
That He will guide and bless me to the end.

Brethren, this was the very night He prayed
Within that garden! pray ye now to Him,
The reascended Saviour! by the lights
And tokens of your Faith, light up your souls
This night to follow through Gethsemane
And Golgotha and Olivet, to Heaven .