Over Kedron Jesus Treadeth

Over Ked­ron Je­sus tread­eth

To His pass­ion for us all;

Every hu­man eye be weep­ing

Tears of bit­ter grief let fall!

Round His spir­it flock the foes

Place their shafts and bend their bows

Aiming at the Sav­ior sole­ly

While the world for­sakes Him whol­ly.

David once

with heart af­flict­ed

Crossed the Ked­ron’s nar­row strand

Clouds of gloom and grief about him

When an ex­ile from his land.

But

oh Je­sus! black­er now

Bends the cloud ab­ove Thy brow

Hasting to death’s drea­ry por­tals

For the shame and sin of mor­tals.

See how

ang­uish-struck

He fall­eth

Prostrate

and with strug­gling breath

Three times on His God He call­eth

Praying that the bit­ter death

And the cup of doom may go

Still He cries

in all His woe:

Not My will

but Thine

O Father

And the an­gels round Him ga­ther.

See how

in that hour of dar­kness

Battling with the ev­il pow­er

Agonies un­told as­sail Him

On His soul the ar­rows show­er;

All the gar­den flow­ers are wet

With the drops of bloody sweat

From His ang­uished frame dis­till­ing—

World’s re­demp­tion thus ful­fill­ing!

But

O flow’rs

so sad­ly wa­tered

By this pure and pre­cious dew

In some bless­èd hour your bloss­oms

’Neath the ol­ive-sha­dows grew!

Eden’s gar­den did not bear

Aught that can with you com­pare

For the blood thus sprinkl­ed o’er ye

Makes my soul the heir of glo­ry.

When as flow’rs them­selves I wi­ther

When I droop and fade like grass

When the life-streams through my puls­es

Dull and ev­er dull­er pass

When at last they cease to roll

Then

to cheer my sing­ing soul

Grace of Jesus

be Thou giv­en—

Source of tri­umph! Pledge of Heav­en!