Open Hymnal

Thou Sweet Gliding Kedron

1. Thou sweet gliding Kedron, by thy silver streams,
Our Saviour, at midnight, when moonlight’s pale beams
Shone bright on thy waters, would frequently stray,
And lose, in thy murmurs, the toils of the day.

2. How damp were the vapors that fell on His head!
How hard was His pillow, how humble His bed!
The angels, astonished, grew sad at the sight,
And followed their Master with solemn delight.

3. O garden of Olivet, 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!

4. Come, saints, and adore Him: come, bow at His feet:
O, give Him the glory, the praise that is meet;
Let joyful hosannahs unceasing arise,
And join the full chorus that gladdens the skies.


Henry Ward Beecher, Plymouth Collection of Hymns and Tunes for the Use of Christian Congregations, (New York: A. S. Barnes & Company, 1859), 71.

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