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Jesus ! who in the garden felt The bloody sweat, yet patient knelt
To do Thy Father's will, To give me such a zealous mind To suffer, such a heart resigned
Thy statutes to fulfil.
Jesus! Thy friends are fain to sleep, While to the unresisting Sheep
The cruel wolves repair; May I be found as meek and still By those who wish or work me ill,
And, like my Lord, at prayer.
Jesus! who saw'st on that sad night Thine own, Thy chosen, take to flight,
And leave their Lord by stealth ; Oh may we learn in grief and care Those harder trials still to bear, —
Prosperity and wealth.
Jesus! who meekly silent stood Before the accusing multitude,
Do Thou my tongue control, Set on my busy lips Thy seal; Ascetic silence oft can heal
The sickness of the soul.
Jesus! whom Peter then denied, Thou with one gentle look didst chide The weak disciple's fears;