'O God, my Father, if this may not be,
Behold Thine Hand-maid: be it, verily,
According to Thy Will. Yet grant to me
In all His pains and sufferings perfectly
To be united. Glory be to Thee.
'Oh, may Thy Loving-kindness stay by me,
And may Thy Presence overshadow me,
Through all the darkness that surroundeth me.
Let nothing daunt my soul, but may I be
Strong in Thy strength, O God, upholding me.'
* * *
The Mother ceases; and a yearning cry
Escapes her lips; for lo, in ecstasy
Opens the gloaming, and a radiancy
As of a rising moon athwart the sky
Reveals the Garden of Gethsemani.
There, in that height who kneels? Alas, 'tis He,
Her Son, her Jesus. And in Agony
He prays - that inner prayer hears she
Deep in her Soul unvoiced, yet pleadingly -
'My Father, let this Chalice pass from Me.'
Apart and sleeping lie th' Apostles three.
He speaks: 'Oh, where is your fidelity?
Can ye not watch one little hour with Me?
Watch ye and pray, lest ye surprised be,
And fall into temptation, heedlessly.'
Again He kneels; and once again prays He:
4 O God, my Father, let this Chalice be
Removed, if it be possible.' Ah me,
Those Drops of Blood down-trickling dreadfully
Too well attest His mortal Agony.
The hour goes by. Again He finds the Three
Asleep for sadness: and again prays He:
'Oh, if this Chalice may not pass from Me,
Thy Will not mine be done; and may that be
Which Thou hast willed in all Eternity.'
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote