�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 ether plains
Is borne the song that angels know;
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Savior�s woe.