Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/The Midnight Prayer of Christ

by Lydia Sigourney

THE MIDNIGHT PRAYER OF CHRIST.

COME, see the mountain where thy Saviour knelt,
The sad, lone place where he his vigils kept;
Come, feel the midnight blast, his bosom felt,
The cold night-chills, that o'er his temples crept,
While guilty, stupid man all heedless slept;
And far away his friends forgetful rove;
And cans't thou say for me he wak'd and wept,
For me he agoniz'd, and pray'd, and strove;
Nor feel one pang of pity, or one thrill of love?

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