BEHOLD YOUR KING! by Frances Ridley Havergal

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Oct 10, 1906

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 32, No. 39.

BEHOLD YOUR KING!

By Frances Ridley Havergal

BEHOLD your King! Tho the moonlight steals Through the silvery sprays of the olive tree, No star-gemmed scepter or crown it reveals, In the solemn shade of Gethsemane. Only a form of prostrate grief, Fallen, crushed, like a broken leaf! O, think of His sorrow! that we may know The depth of love in the depth of wo!

Behold your King! Is it nothing to you That the crimson tokens of agony From the kingly brow must fall, like dew, Through the shuddering shades of Gethsemane?

Jesus Himself, the Prince of Life, Bows in mysterious mortal strife; O, think of His sorrow! that ye may know The unknown love in the unknown wo!

Behold your King! With His sorrow crowned, Alone, alone in the valley is He! The shadows are gathering round, And the cross must follow Gethsemane. Darker and darker the gloom must fall; Filled is the cup, He must drink it all! O, think of His sorrow! that we may know His wondrous love in His wondrous wo! —Frances Ridley Havergal.