Found all-sufficient armor
Within the written Word,
Used 'gainst the mighty charmer
The Holy Spirit's sword.

Allurements unavailing
The Christ of God to move,
He came again assailing,
Obedience to prove;
In purpose unrelenting,
In sterner fiercer guise,
With malice now presenting
The cup before His eyes.

Oh, lonely hour of darkness
Of deep impending woe!
Oh, awful power of darkness!
Oh, grief that none may know!
Dark shadows of the morrow
Are thrown across Thy soul,
And mighty seas of sorrow
Their waters o'er Thee roll.

Thoughts of the dread forsaking
Which soon Thy soul must feel,
And death, the power of Satan
About to bruise Thy heel:
But on Thy Father cast Thee,
In sweet dependence still,
Though in Thy spirit's agony
Great drops of blood-sweat fell.

Oh, what divine perfection
Still marks Thy wondrous ways!
What blessed meek subjection
Still calls forth all our praise!
The dreaded cup now taking
From God Thy Father's hand,
In peace Thine hour awaiting,
Thy Father's blest command.

E. O. H.