Wednesday before Easter

Tis o'er! the last kind deed is done,
J- The last kind word is spoken,
The last few sands are almost run,

And the last links are broken;
Love's bonds are burst, and he is free
With an enslaving liberty.

He who, admitted near his Lord,
Tended with care parental,
Had seen His deeds, and heard His word,

So loving and so gentle,
Rises, and goes his fearful way
Out into darkness to betray.

All acts of love, all means of grace,
His stubborn soul refuseth,
Self occupies the Saviour's place,

And His best gifts abuseth;
The wretch, thro' wretched love of pelf,
Betrays his Lord, betrays himself.

Long had he harbour'd secret sin,
And long with truth had trifled;
Now Satan safely enters in,

And God's own shrine is rifled:
The hands, that long in secret stole,
Now sell his Saviour, and his soul.

By slow degrees the deed was done,
The fetters, that now bound hi in,
Had, day by day and one by one,

Been surely drawn around him:
He would not burst them when he could,
He could not burst them when he would.

Think not he deem'd Christ's death would be
The end of his pursuing,
Far rather hoped he thus to see

His enemies' undoing;
He have his silver, they their fall,
His Lord triumphant over all!

Alas! how little they can know
The end of the beginning,
Who calculate how far to go

Into the ways of sinning: —
Turn to Aceldama, and there
Witness the suicide's despair!

O Saviour! teach us how to take
Warning from that offender j
And keep our souls, for Thy dear sake,

To Thee still true and tender;
Lest, turning wilfully away
We leave Thy table, to betray.

One downward step of early sin
Indulged in or neglected,
One look of love — our hearts to win

Back to Thy side — rejected;
May our soul's separation be
Eternally, O God, from Thee.