Father, who in the olive shade,
When the dark hour came on,
Didst, with a breath of heav’nly aid,
Strengthen Thy Son.

Oh, by the anguish of that night,
Send us down blest relief,
Or to the chastened let Thy might
Hallow this grief.

And Thou that, when the starry sky
Saw the dread strife begun,
Didst teach adoring faith to cry,
“Thy will be done!”

Recordings none