Poem: The Saviour’s Hour, Man’s Hour, God’s Hour

The Saviour’s Hour, Mark 14:41

What meanest Thou, THE HOUR IS COME?
‘Tis but the passing of time.
Let it pass from Him, if it be possible,
While I take my ease and recline.
Hark, why is He prostrate up the ground?
I see no cup to take away.
Still no curious thought within me found,
He bids me sleep on now.
From eyes too weary to observe,
I fail to see His bloodstained brow.

Man’s Hour, Luke 22:53-54

What meanest Thou, THIS IS YOUR HOUR?
I followed afar off, I knew Him not.
Weeping bitterly with tear-filled eyes,
I watch the multitude; they begin to plot.
They smote the Saviour on His face,
Tore out His beard, crowned His brow,
Scourged His back, and with water tried to erase
The awful guilt and stain of sin.
In Him is no fault. Take Him away;
Nail Him to a cross; bring Him to an end.

God’s Hour, Matthew 27:45-50

What meanest Thou, THE HOUR IS DARK?
Why doth the sun veil its face?
Whence comes all this frightful silence?
You mean He’s there to take my place?
God’s wrath and judgment fell
Upon His own beloved Son to ransom me?
For me, Lord, to deliver me from Hell?
I heard His cry, “IT IS FINISHED”; now I’m free!
Dear friend, can you not accept His plea,
Simply trust the one who died for thee?