which can be used in the congregations during Lent

at the weekly service and on Days of Prayer

according to the custom of each place

[by Thomas Kingo]

[from the Gradual of 1699]

[Translation © Mark DeGarmeaux unless noted]

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Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary home page (ELH has 16 hymns by Thomas Kingo)

O come, let us worship (A Study in Lutheran Liturgy and Hymnody by M. DeGarmeaux) (107k)

The Path of Understanding -- The Development of Lectionaries and their use in the Lutheran Church (by the Rev. Alexander Ring)

Jesus' Sweat in the Garden
Verses translated by J. Jeffrey, 1880
tune: previous tune
1 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 Saviour solely,
While the world forsakes Him wholly.
2 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, O Jesus, blacker now
Bends the cloud above Thy brow,
Hasting to death's dreary portals
For the shame and sin of mortals.
3 Wilt Thou in Thy pain and ruing
To the Mount of Olives go?
Yet there is no tree for viewing
Where the fruits of peace may grow;
War and battle, bitter pain,
Death and mockery and shame
Every bud shoots forth with sorrow
Jesus now no peace can borrow.
4 Enter now the restful garden
As a peaceful quiet space,
Sorrow soon begins to darken,
Follow Thee in every place!
Come now, Adam, come and see
Enter blest Gethsemane!
See the Lord of heaven shaking
Hellish anguish for us taking.
5 All of Jesus' limbs are quaking
As sins' burden hard doth press
See the God-Man ever shaking
Death doth bring to life distress
Jesus' lifeblood forth doth pour
And His heart aches more and more
Shooting forth with blood-streams narrow
From ten thousand poisoned arrows.
6 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.
7 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!
8 O ye heavéns, will ye give Him
Strength of heart, and that right soon?
To the end He hard has striven
Jesus dies! He dies so soon!
Holy angels, come and see
Strengthen Him for death to see!
How His cheeks are filled with pallor,
As He meets His death with valor.
9 See the blood so sadly dripping
With each drop of sweat so cold;
Death in every vein is seeping
And His face is dark as coal;
And the grass where Jesus prays
Now a bloody carpet stays
From His precious veins now offering,
See what pains He now is suffering!
10 Daily I am gladly yearning
E'er to go to Kedron's stream
And from earthly pleasure turning
In a penitential theme!
Daily in Gethsemane
With my spirit I shall see
Jesus' bleeding and His sighing
For my soul is all His dying.
11 Now, away with earthly pleasure!
Let me see my Jesus dear!
In Gethsemane, my Treasure,
I will gather me a tear
From His bloody sweat of pain
Which my righteousness did gain
Earth now gives me only sadness
Till I enter heaven's gladness.
12 But, O flowers, so sadly watered
By this pure and precious dew,
In some blessed hour your blossoms
'Neath the olive-shadows grew!
Eden's garden did not bear
Aught that can with you compare,
For the blood, thus freely given,
Makes my soul the heir of heaven.
13 When as flowers 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 sinking soul,
Grace of Jesus, be Thou given-
Source of triumph! pledge of heaven!
14 And now when my heart is breaking,
And my eye no longer sees,
When my tongue no sound is making,
Let my soul a droplet seize
Of Thy precious sweat and blood;
Wash my heart in that dear flood.
In the hour when I am dying,
On Thy Passion I'm relying.

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