When Jesus sought thy olive grove,
To pray on bended knee.
The time was night, the darkest night
Since life on earth began;
The hosts of hell were gathered there
Against one lonely Man.
Alone He knelt, alone He prayed,
And wrestled with hell’s power;
Alone in sweat and agony
No one could share that hour.
And in His hand there was a cup,
And in that cup a draught;
The loathsome sins of all mankind
A wine of hellish craft.
No mind can solve the mystery of
The contents of that cup;
No man could share its bitter dregs,
Or bear its burden up.
O Saviour dear, my sins were there,
My hope is in that cup;
Thou drainedst bitter dregs for me,
That I with Thee might sup:-
That I another cup may quaff,
As sung by Hebrew bard,
I’ll “take the cup of salvation
And call upon the Lord.”
And may Thy Spirit dwell in me,
O Christ, the Holy One,
And lead me in the darkest hour
To pray “Thy will be done!”
Renata, B.C.,Canada May 1933