(Part of a series singing through the hymnbook I grew up with: Great Hymns of the Faith)
‘Tis midnight — and on Olive’s brow
The star is dimmed that lately shone;
‘Tis midnight — in the garden now
The suff’ring Savior prays alone.
‘Tis midnight — and from all removed
The Savior 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 that hath in anguish knelt
Is not forsaken by His God.
‘Tis midnight — and from ether-plains
Is borne the song that angels know;
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Savior’s woe.