Thou sweet smiling Kedron, by the silver stream,
Our Savior would linger in moonlight’s soft beam,
And by thy bright waters, till midnight would stay,
And lose in thy murmurs the toils of the day.
Come saints and adore Him, come bow at His feet,
O give Him the glory and praise that is meet,
Let joyful hosannas unceasing arise,
And join the full chorus that gladdens the skies.
How damp were the vapors that fell on His head,
How hard was His pillow, how humble His bed,
The angels beholding, amazed at the sight,
Attended their master with solemn delight.
O garden of Olives, thou dear honored spot,
The fame of thy wonders shall ne’er be forgot,
The theme most transporting to seraphs above,
The triumph of sorrow, the triumph of love.