"Remembrance of me."

LORD JESUS, we would think of Thee,
And on Thy sorrow dwell
When prostrate in Gethsemane,
(Who can those sorrows tell?)
When Thou didst to the Father's ear
Tell forth Thine agony;
When Thou didst say, with holy fear,
"Let this cup pass from me."

Lord Jesus, we would think of Thee,
Thine agony behold,
Uplifted on the shameful tree,
Where billows o'er Thee rolled;
For us made sin, Thou did'st endure
The whole of wrath divine,
There for Thy saints Thou didst secure
A place with Thee to shine.

Lord Jesus, we would think of Thee,
Now seated on the throne,
God glorified - Thy people free
The praise he Thine alone.
Thy death, Lord Jesus, we record,
While hearts within us burn;
We worship Thee with one accord,
And wait Thy sure return. G. W. F.