Classic Poem

HYMN III.

That doleful night, when our dear Lord
Into the garden did retreat,
To vent his grief in groans, and cries,
In tears, and in a bloody sweat;

That ne'er to be forgotten night,
When our redeemer was betray'd;
Before his sufferings he took bread,
Gave thanks to God, broke it, and said:

Take, eat; this is my body broke
For you upon the cursed tree:
Perform this ord'nance as I do,
And when you do't, remember me.

He took the cup too, crown'd with wine,
Bless'd it, and to's disciples said,
'Tis the new test'ment in my blood,
For you and many others shed.

All you, my friends, must drink of this,
Your sin's remission here you see;
Perform this ord'nance as I do,
And when you do't, remember me.

Yes, Lord, we will remember thee,
And thy love more than fragrant wine:
How can we e'er thy cross forget,
Which made thee ours, and made us thine?

Our right hand first shall lose its art,
Our tongue forget to speak or move,
Ere we'll prove thoughtless of thy wounds,
Those everlasting marks of love.

We'll thus commemorate thy death,
Till thou appear on earth again:
And, Lord, remember us, we pray;
Make haste to take thy power, and reign.