Out Of The Trees

THE BATTLE OF GETHSEMANE

 

Into the trees our Savior went,

Forsaken, forlorn, and forspent.

Into the trees our Savior came,

Compelled by love but dreading the shame.

The old olive trees were not blind to Him,

Their little green leaves were kind to Him,

But the thorn tree had a mind for Him,

When into the trees He came.

 

Out of the trees our Savior went,

His will denied but His soul content.

Out of the trees our Savior came,

Resolved to die for our sin and shame.

Death and shame would woo Him last,

From under the trees they drew Him last

And on the tree, it slew Him last,

When out of the trees He came.