'And when they had sung a hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives.'
-Matth. xxvi. 30.

There's something sweet in scenes of gloom
To hearts, of joy bereft;
When hope has withered in its bloom;
When friends are going to the tomb,
Or in the tomb are left.
'T is night, a lovely night;-and lo!
Like men in vision seen,
The Saviour and his brethren go,
Silent, and sorrowful, and slow,
Led by heaven's lamp serene,
From Salem's height, o'er Kedron's stream,
To Olivet's dark steep;
There, o'er past joys, so like a dream,
O'er future woes, that present seem,
In solitude to weep.
Heaven on their earthly hopes has frowned;
Their dream of thrones has fled;
The table that his love has crowned
They ne'er again shall sit around,
With Jesus at their head.
Blast not, O God, this hope of ours,
The hope of sins forgiven;
Then, when our friends the grave devours,
When all the world around us lowers,
We 'll look from earth to heaven.