Sacred and miscellaneous poems . hard to guessThose Voices of the Past that on thee call!For in their sweet, yet melancholy fallCome memories of the gone, that sorely pressOn thy twice smitten heart; and still inwroughtWith these, sublimely soars the ecstatic thoughtThat Pagans in far Ava and Rangoon,Where in wild beauty Irrawaddy flows —By thee are dowered wTith the Gospel grief, such joy, the Missionary knows!1846. (273) GETHSEMANE. T is Midnight, — and on Olives browThe star is dimmed that lately shone; T is Midnight — in the garden now,The suffering Saviour prays alone. T is Midn

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Sacred and miscellaneous poems . hard to guessThose Voices of the Past that on thee call!For in their sweet, yet melancholy fallCome memories of the gone, that sorely pressOn thy twice smitten heart; and still inwroughtWith these, sublimely soars the ecstatic thoughtThat Pagans in far Ava and Rangoon,Where in wild beauty Irrawaddy flows —By thee are dowered wTith the Gospel grief, such joy, the Missionary knows!1846. (273) GETHSEMANE. T is Midnight, — and on Olives browThe star is dimmed that lately shone; T is Midnight — in the garden now,The suffering Saviour prays alone. T is Midnight — and from all removed,Immanuel wrestles, lone, with fears; Een the disciple that he loved Heeds not his Masters grief and tears. T is Midnight — and for others guiltThe Man of Sorrows weeps in blood; Yet He, that hath in anguish knelt,Is not forsaken by his God. T is IMidnight — from the heavenly plains,Are borne the songs that angels know; Unheard by mortals are the strainsThat sweetly soothe the Saviours

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, booksubjectamerica, bookyear1848