Lily of Gethsemane

    O lord, a lily I would be;
    a pure disciple robed in white,
    sprung up from tears dropped in the night,
    beside Thee in Gethsemane.

    Beneath the cedar and the palm
    a lovely scent I would impart,
    to soothe Thy worn and trembling heart,
    and for Thy sorrow, healing balm.

    I’d brush my petals ‘gainst Thy hand,
    my leaves would pillow soil below;
    while all Thy prayers to heaven go,
    as near Thee I contently stand.

    Throughout the night I’d sing to Thee,
    beneath bright stars and yellow moon,
    a hushed and quiet holy tune
    about Thy great divinity.

    Then, with the morn, I’d lift my cup
    and join a silent celebration
    with all of God’s vast creation;
    through Thee alone we'll all rise up.

    O Lord, a lily I would be,
    a pure disciple robed in white,
    to bloom beneath Thy perfect light,
    as I grow closer unto Thee.