CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN.
By Felicia Hemans
He knelt—the Saviour knelt and prayed,
When but his Father's eye
Looked through the lonely garden's shade,
On that dread agony.
The Lord of all above, beneath,
Was bowed with sorrow unto death. The sun set in a fearful hour,
The skies might well grow dim
When this mortality had power
So to o'ershadow Him!
That he who gave man's breath might know
The very depth of human woe. He proved them all!—the doubt, the strife,
The faint, perplexing dread,
The mists that hang o'er parting life,
All gathered round his head!
And the Deliverer knelt to pray—
Yet passed it not, that cup, away. It passed not—though the stormy wave
Had sunk beneath his tread;
It passed not—though to him the grave
Had yielded up its dead.
But there was sent him from on high
A gift of strength, for man to die. And was the sinless thus beset
With anguish and dismay?
How may we meet our conflict yet,
In the dark, narrow way?
Through him, through him, that path who trod!
Save, or we perish, Son of God!
—Hemans.