Night, With Ebon Pinion

Verse 1

Night, with ebon pinion Brooded o’er the vale; All around was silent, Save the night-wind’s wail, When Christ, the Man of Sorrows, In tears and sweat and blood, Prostrate in the garden, Raised His voice to God.

Verse 2

Smitten for offenses Which were not His own, He for our transgressions, Had to weep alone; No friend with word to comfort, Nor hand to help was there, When the Meek and Lowly Humbly bowed in pray'r.

Verse 3

Abba, Father, Father, If indeed it may, Let this cup of anguish Pass from me, I pray; Yet, if it must be suffered, By Me, Thine only Son, Abba, Father, Father, Let Thy will be done.