O thou! who, in the olive shade,

When the dark hour came on,

Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid,

Strengthen thy suffering Son;

2 O, by the anguish of that night,

Send us now blest relief;

Or to the chastened, let thy might

Hallow this whelming grief.

3 And thou, that, when the starry sky,

Saw the dread strife begun,

Didst teach adoring faith to cry,

Father! thy will be done;

4 By thy meek Spirit, thou, of all

That e’er have mourned the chief,

Blest Saviour! if the stroke must fall,

Hallow this whelming grief.