WHEN MY LOVE TO CHRIST GROWS WEAK,
when for deeper faith I seek,
then in thought I go to thee,
Garden of Gethsemane!
There I walk amid the shades while
the lingering twilight fades,
see that suffering friendless One
weeping, praying, all alone.
When my love for man grows weak,
when for stronger faith I seek,
Hill of Calvary I go to thy scenes
of fear and woe.
There
behold His agony suffered on the
bitter tree.
See His anguish, see His faith -
love triumphant still in death.
Then to life I turn again, learning
all the worth of pain.
Learning all the might that lies in
a full self-sacrifice.