In Dark Gethsemane

The world in si­lence waits around

The pen­dant branch­es sway

While

in the sha­dows more pro­found

The Mas­ter kneels to pray.

The hours of night go fly­ing on

Fierce dan­gers haste the day;

’Tis now the Mas­ter seeks His own—

They need to watch and pray.

The foes of right­eous­ness awake

They hi­ther press their way

Their cla­mors on the si­lence break—

Awake

ye saints

and pray!

’Tis e’er in dark Geth­se­ma­ne

The Mas­ter strives alone

Yet ev­er comes with ten­der care

To wake and warn His own.