‘Tis Midnight And On Olive’s Brow
The Star Is Dimmed That Lately Shone;
‘Tis Midnight ; In The Garden Now
The Suffering Saviour Prays Alone.

‘Tis Midnight And From All Removed,
The Saviour Wrestles ‘Lone With Fears;
E’en That Disciple Whom He Loved
Heeds Not His Master’s Grief And Tears.

‘Tis Midnight And For Others’ Guilt
The Man Of Sorrows Weeps In Blood;
Yet He, Who Hath In Anguish Knelt,
Is Not Forsaken By His God.

‘Tis Midnight And From Ether-Plains
‘Tis Borne The Song That Angels Know;
Unheard By Mortals Are The Strains
That Sweetly Soothe The Saviour’s Woe.