25. The Agony

O Soul of Jesus, sick to death!
Thy Blood and prayer togetiier plead;
My sins have bowed Thee to the ground,
A the storm bows the feeble reed.

Midnight — and still the oppressive load
Upon thy tortured Heart doth lie;
Still the abhorred procession winds
Before Thy spirit's (quailing eye.

Deep waters have come in, O Lord!
All darkly on Thy Human Soul;
And clouds of supernatural gloom
Around Thee are allowed to roll.

The wei^-ht of the eternal wrath
Drives over Thee with pressure dread;
And, forced upon the olive roots,
In deathlike sadness droops Thy Head.

Thy spirit weighs the sins of men;
Thy science fathoms all their guilt;
Thou sickenest heavily at Thy Heart,
And the pores open, — Blood is spilt.

And Thou hast struggled with it, Lord,
Even to the limit of Thy strength,
While liours whose minutes were as years,
Slowly fulfilled their weary length.

Aucl Thou hast shuddered at each act,
And shrunk with an astonished fear,
As if Thou couldst not bear to see
The loathsomeness of sin so near.

Sin and the Father's Anger! they
Have made Thj lower nature faint;
All save the love within Thy Heart,
Seemed for the moment to be spent,

My God! My God! and can it be
That I should sin so lightly now,
And think no more of evil thoughts.
Than of the wind that waves the bough?

I sin, — and heaven and earth go rouiiJ,
As if no dreadful deed were done.
As if God's Blood had never flowed
To hinder sin, or to atone,

I walk the earth with lightsome step,
Smile at the sunshine, breathe the air,
Do my own will, nor ever heed
Gethsemane and Thy long prayer.

Slmll it be always thus, O Lord?
Wilt Thou not work this hour in me
The grace, Thy passion merited.
Hatred of self and love of Thee?

Oh by the pains of Thy pure love,
Grant me the gift of holy fear;
And give me of Thy Bloody Sweat
To wash my guilty conscience clear!

Ever when tempted, make me see.
Beneath the olive's moon-pierced shade,
My God, alone, outstretched, and bruised,
And bleeding, on the earth He made.

Ajid make me feel it was my sin,
As though no other sins there were,
That was to Him who bears the world
A load that He could scarcely bear I