Thursday before Easter

Jesus! my Master! when I feel
The world's temptations round me steal.
When things of sense too much employ
My heart with their deceptive joy,
When things of faith too little move
My soul to thoughts and deeds of love,
I'll turn aside, and keep with Thee
Watch in that sad Gethsemane.

When, — cross'd by cares which Thou hast sent
In mercy, sadder to prevent,
Cares which, if rightly understood,
Must only work me deeper good, —
I, slighting what Thou dost provide,
Would push the bitter cup aside, —
O give me grace, to keep with Thee
Watch in that sad Gethsemane.

Life's gaudy but unreal glow,
The littleness of human woe,
The joys which some so much control,
They should be payment for a soul;
The griefs which some so much depress,
As if our right were happiness;
Their nothingness we best can see,
When look'd on in Gethsemane.

Thy sorrows there, alone can prove
The depth of real grief and love;
Thy lonely and thrice offer'd prayer,
If it were possible, to spare —
The meekness of that love, which still
To Heav'n subdued Thy human will,
These are the lessons which can be
Best taught us in Gethsemane.

There let us kneel, and c watch and pray,'
Against tha,t dark and awful day,
When Thou upon the cross didst give
Thy life, that all the world might live.
If for one moment sin seem slight,
Or our offences few or light,
They'll take their proper form, when we
Kneel by Thee in Gethsemane.