Hallgrímur Pétursson (1614-1674)

 
     
   

Christ goes to the Garden

1  Arise, my soul, my heart, my mind,
And all that I within me find,
Come, help me tongue, my Lord to own
And make His wondrous passion known!

2  Paul, the Apostle, chose this theme;
To preach it was his task supreme-
The Passion of the Crucified,
That sinners might be justified.

3   Since Jesus gave His latest breath
To save me from eternal death,
Should not the powers He thus renewed
Show forth to Him my Gratitude?

4  At last repentance rends my heart,
How poorly have I played my part!
What Jesus suffered in my place
I oft forget,-to my disgrace!

5  My soul, behold the sacrifice
Which paid our trespass' awful price,
Restored the rebel sinner's state.-
What joy on this to meditate!

6  What soothes so well the heart's deep sore,
As gazing on the pains He bore?
This sight all sin and stumbling bans,
- The Face "more marred than any man's".

7   Tell me, my soul, where thou canst see
More clearly God's rich love to thee
Than in the pains that Jesus bore
A hapless rebel to restore?

8  O, Saviour, let Thy Spirit guide,
That none but Thee be glorified.
Let every word and thought expressed
To every one that reads be blessed.

9   The supper o'er with heart and tongue
Their song of praise to God was sung,-
Their last, sad song that fatal night,-
And thus they closed the sacred rite.

10  The Son of God, Whose mighty sway
Controls the spheres by night and day,
Received His bread with thanks to God,
And here the subject pathway trod.

11  Thou as a beggar must, my soul,
Receive from God thy daily dole.
Offer to Him thy grateful praise
Whose bounty crowneth all thy days.

12  Shame on the slave who grasps the gift
Too proud to God his heart to lift!
Keep me, my God, in Jesu's Name,
From such a depth of craven shame!

13  When they had sung the Paschal hymn
He made His way in darkness dim
To the Olive Mount, a blest retreat
Where oft He sought refreshment sweet.

14   Learn from our Lord's example here
To praise thy God, His name revere,
And never from thy home to fare
Without sincere and humble prayer.

15   Over the Kidron Jesus passed,
Dark was the heaven overcast,
But darker still was Kidron's name,
Which seems a doctrine to proclaim.

16   Over the deep, dark brook of pain
I, too, must pass and not complain.
My Saviour trod that weary track;
Shall I from troublous paths turn back?

17  On Thee, my Lord, I fix my gaze,
To teach my soul Thy holy ways
Thy precepts true delight my heart.
Ne'er from that pattern let me part.

18  Thou didst not seek to stir the crowd
To riot or to tumult loud,
But waitedest in the Garden's shade
To meet Thy captors unafraid.

19  From this I learn: To gain my end
Never with clamour to contend.
More pleasing far it is to Thee
To suffer in humility.

20   That track was dark which sorrow' cloud,
Thy heart with heavy grief was bowed,
But I had, laughing, walked in shame,
Till Thou my rebel soul did'st claim.

21   Through life's Gethsemane we wend,
With death to meet us at the end,
Then turn from sin, whate'er the cost,
Lest finally thy soul be lost.

22  Tears of repentance needs must flow
While we pursue our life below,
But when we reach the heav'nly sphere,
God's hand shall dry our every tear.

23  "Because of Me," He said, "this night
Will see my comrades all in flight."
But Peter cried with accents loud,
And such vile baseness disavowed.

24  My Saviour sees the hidden snare
That waits my footsteps everywhere.
He knows the way the chain to snap
If I should fall in Satan's trap.

25  "Never, never," then Peter cried
"Shall ought entice me from thy side,
Though others fail Thee, yet not I
Will ever Thy great Name deny!"

26  To trust the arm of flesh is vain,
Not thus the vict'ry we obtain,
But only trusting God's sure grace
We sight the goal and win the race.

27  Help me, O Lord, this truth to hold:
A fragile vessel bears my gold;
Thy warning voice I value most,
When carnal pride would make its boast.

 

Hyms of the Passion: Meditations on the Passon of Christ by: Hallgrimur Petursson Translated from the Icelandic by
Arthur Charles Gook

 

 

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