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164

P. M.

Gethsemane.

102

S. F. Smith.

Beyond where Cedron’s waters flow,

Behold the suffering Saviour go

To sad Gethsemane;

His countenance is all divine,

Yet grief appears in every line.

2 He bows beneath the sins of men;

He cries to God, and cries again,

In sad Gethsemane:

He lifts his mournful eyes above—

“My Father, can this cup remove?”

3 With gentle resignation still,

He yielded to his Father’s will

In sad Gethsemane;

“Behold me here, thine only Son;

And, Father, let thy will be done.”

4 The Father heard; and angels, there,

Sustained the Son of God in prayer,

In sad Gethsemane:

He drank the dreadful cup of pain—

Then rose to life and joy again.

5 When storms of sorrow round us sweep,

And scenes of anguish make us weep,

To sad Gethsemane

We’ll look, and see the Saviour there,

And humbly bow, like him, in prayer.

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