|
|
| |
|
Come all ye chosen of saints of God,
That long to feel the cleansing blood,
In pensive pleasure join with me,
To sing of sad Gethsemane.
Gethsemane, the olive-press;
(And why so call’d let Christians guess)
Fit name, fit place, where vengeance strove,
And grip’d and grappled hard with love.
Mysterious conflict! dark disguise
Hid from all creatures’ piercing eyes;
Angels astonish’d view the scene,
And wonder yet, what all could mean.
In Eden’s garden there was food,
Of ev’ry kind for man while good;
But banish’d thence, we fly to thee
Oh garden of Gethsemane!
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| 2005 | # 151 |
MUSIC
|
Name:
|
TRURO
|
|
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Dates:
|
1789
|
LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Song #
|
Key
|
| # 301 | C | | # 645 | C | | # 22 | C | | # 190 | C | | # 240 | C | | # 433 | C | | # 20 | C | | # 123 | D | | # 102 | D | | # 247 | D | | # 676 | D | | # 233 | D | | # 272 | D | | # 628 | D | | # 403 | D |
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
