Tis midnight, and on Olive’s brow

1
’Tis midnight, and on Olive’s brow
  The star is dimmed that lately shone;
’Tis midnight in the garden now,
  The suff’ring Savior prays alone.
2
’Tis midnight, and from all removed,
  The Savior wrestles lone with fears—
E’en that disciple whom He loved
  Heeds not his Master’s grief and tears.
3
’Tis midnight, and for other’s guilt
  The Man of Sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet He that hath in anguish knelt
  Is not forsaken by His God.
4
’Tis midnight, and from ether-plains
  Is borne the song that angels know
Unheard by mortals are the strains
  That sweetly soothe the Savior’s woe.
1
Mary Nissley

Indian Valley, VA, United States

Such an incredible song if played and/or sung with the pathos the words communicate!

The piano needs to be slowed down, and played with much more feeling.