"Canst thou watch one hour with me?"
How long since fell these words from Thee?
Before Thy blood-wept vigil in dark Gethsemane,
How many since to Thee have bent the knee?
And yet too few, for here, O Lord! art Thou;
Deserted? No! for angels crowding to Thee bring
Sweet, holy homage to their God, their King.
While—as Thy chosen ones forgetful slumbered—
Thy people passeth on the road unnumbered,
With never a thought of Thee, O God, beside.
'Tis well, O Lord! 'tis well for human kind,
Thy love is ever wondrous, great and wide,
Thy heart with golden mercies ever glowing,
Thy reaping not always Thy people's sowing.