Father! who in the olive shade, When the dark hour came on, Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid, Strengthen thy Son; | O, in the anguish of our night, Send us down blest relief; And to the chastened, let Thy might Hallow the grief! | And thou, that, when the starry sky Saw the dread strife begun, Didst teach adoring faith to cry, “Thy will be done!”— | By thy meek spirit, thou, of all That e’er have mourned the chief, Our Saviour! when the stroke doth fall, Hallow our grief! | |