1 'Tis midnight; and on Olive's brow
The star is dimmed that lately shone:
'Tis midnight; in the garden now
The suff'ring Saviour prays alone.
2 'Tis midnight; and, from all removed,
Emmanuel wrestles lone with fears:
E'en the disciple that he loved
Heeds not his master's grief and tears.
3 '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.
4 'Tis midnight; from the heav'nly plains
Is borne the song that angels know:
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Saviour's woe.
