1 ‘Tis midnight, and on Olive’s brow
the star is dimmed that lately shone.
‘Tis midnight; in the garden now
the suff'ring Savior prays alone.

2 ‘Tis midnight, and from all removed,
Immanuel wrestles ’lone with fears.
E’en that disciple whom he loved
heeds not his Master’s grief and tears.

3 ‘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.