Twas eve in Judah's land!
Slowly the shadows had longer grown,
Till the last faint ray of the setting sun
Had faded and fled from the western sky;
Then on they came with a sweeping train,
Noiseless, yet sure and swift!
Down from the mountain and over the plain,
Flinging around their shroud of gloom
And locking in silence deep as the tomb
The daylight hum of man-and clouds arose,
Dark somber clouds, in strange wild groups.
Now hiding from sight the moonbeam's light,
Then swiftly hurrying-struggling on.
E'en the lights in the city grew pale and dim
As the midnight hours grew near ;
And only the sound of the watchman's round
Fell sharp and clear on the listening ear,
And echoing rose to the silent sky-

When, list, 'twas the voice of music!
A low sweet burst of song,
Coming floating through the midnight,
Borne by the winds along ;
'Twas the sound of many voices,
And the strain was soft and deep,
For it came from hearts of sadness-
Strange mingling of praise and grief.
It ceased-and forth from an upper room
A band of watchers came.
Sadly they wound through the gloomy streets
Towards the city's eastern wall;
Passed through the gate, and o'er Kedron's brook,
Till they came to Olivet's hillside lone,
And the deep shade of Gethsemane.

In their midst there was one whose weary frame
Knew little of earth's repose-a lonely man-
Lone in His heart's deep sympathy,
Lone in His hour of agony ;
Lone-and yet not alone, if human woe
Or human want had need of Him-
Then every wayside sufferer urged his claim,
And none was e'er denied. Then, too,
Thronging multitudes around Him pressed-for
Jesus came to heal, to seek, and to save the lost.
No crowd was with Him now-but a lowly band
Whom He had chosen out from humble life:
Not earth's nobility, but sons of toil,
They owed Him much-yet little gave
Which met His soul's deep yearning.
On them He lavished all His love,
And in return got lukewarm, wavering faith.
One day they knew Him and adored. The next
Would ask again, " Who art Thou, Lord ?"
Once, as He told them of His hour of agony,
And spoke of coming shame and death,
They listened-heard-and heeded not; their hearts
Were filled with other thoughts, with curious strife
Disputing-who should be the greatest!
And now they sorrow, scarcely knowing why,
Save that His farewell words are sounding in their ears,
And they see His heart is wrung.
He chooses three among them, who of old
Have known and loved Him best,
And bids the others tarry there, while they move on.

Deeper and deeper yet within the gloomy shade-
All may not see the anguish of His heart,
All in that sorrow may not bear a part.
Then turning unto them He saith,
''Tarry ye here awhile and watch :
My soul is sorrowful exceedingly,
Yea, e'en to death! "He leaves them there
And passes on.
Ah ! earth and sky, what saw ye then ?
And you, ye angel hosts before the throne,
In that dread hour what witnessed ye?
Bowed down to earth heaven's highest Majesty,
Fulness of Godhead, the Eternal One,
Firstborn of all creation! He, Jehovah's Son
Arrayed in human garb, and bending low
In untold agony!

Ah! words-poor human words,
Vainly ye seek to tell of grief like this:-
Ye may not-One alone has known it,
One whose agony of love no floods could drown,
And He, the One who knows it, tells it not!
But thou, O ransomed soul, with unvailed sight
Gaze on that mystery-
Gaze, and, with rapture filled,
Bow down and worship Him, who died for thee!