‘Tis midnight, and on Olive’s brow
The star is dimmed that lately shone;
‘Tis midnight, in the garden now,
The suffering Savior prays alone.
‘Tis midnight, and from all removed
Emmanuel wrestles lone with fears;
E’en the 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 who hath in anguish knelt
Is not forsaken by His God.
‘Tis midnight, and from heavenly plains
Is borne the song that angels know;
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Savior’s woe.
– Wil liam B. Tap pan, 1822