'T was the last watch of night. Gethsemane, With its bath'd leaves of silver, seem'd dissolv'd In visible stillness, and as Jesus' voice With its bewildering sweetness met the ear Like the first whisper in a silent world. Were mightier than the Son of man could bear, Let this cup pass from me." Oh, how a word, Like the forc'd drop before the fountain breaks, Stilleth the press of human agony ! The Saviour felt its quiet in his soul; And tho' his strength was weakness, and the light Which led him on till now was sorely dim, He breathed a new submission "Not my will, But thine be done, oh Father!" As he spoke, For "he that should betray him was at hand.” Willis. IV. "Then all the disciples forsook him and fled."- Matthew xxvi. 56. FLED!-and from whom? The Man of woe Who in Gethsemane had felt Such pangs as bade the blood drops flow And the crushed heart with anguish melt? They who were gathered round his board, Saw the sick healed, the dead restored, All fled? Yet one there was who laid Yes. All forsook the Master's side When foes and dangers clustered round, And when in bitterness he cried, 'Mid the dread garden's awful bound, Yet knew they not how near him stood The host of Heaven, a guardian train, Deploring man's ingratitude And wondering at his Saviour's pain. Oh! ye, whose hearts in secret bleed Who shrink from Persecution's rod Or Slander's fang, or Treachery's tone, Look merely to the Son of God, And in his griefs forget your own. Forsaken are ye? so was he, Reviled? - yet check the vengeful word, — Rejected? should the servant be Exalted o'er his suffering Lord? Mrs. Sigourney. CONDEMNATION OF JESUS. "Behold the man."- John xix. 5. BEHOLD the man! how glorious he! Behold the man! by all condemned, His person and his claims contemned, Behold the man! so weak he seems, Behold the man! though scorned below, And all his royal claims approve. Christian Psalmist. THE CRUCIFIXION. I. "Weep for yourselves, and for your children." — Luke xxiii. 28. WE mourn for those who toil, The slave who ploughs the main, A host of restless phantoms chase,- We mourn for those who sin, Bound in the tempter's snare, |