Nor this the sole command by Christ then given To His disciples, loved unto the last, At that sad meeting, when the Lord of Heaven Beheld death’s awful hour approaching fast, The cross—the anguish which all mortal woe surpassed; When He surveyed His small devoted band, And all that He for them would suffer knew, The Saviour breathed that heavenly command, That bond of union to His faithful few, “Love one another e’en as I have loved you.” _As I have loved you._ Oh! more than love,— Language can breathe, and thought conceive no more; It is not “as thyself”—_this_ mounts above All human feeling, bids us higher soar, Gaze on the cross, and feel the love a Saviour bore! And can we ever rudely tear aside The band Messiah twined around His own? Envy, resentment, petulance, or pride, Erase the mark by which His flock are known? Hath Christ ne’er loved _us_, to us no mercy shown? XLIV. THE CURE AT GETHSEMANE. The awful night hath passed, the day Soon o’er the mountains will be breaking, And from their sleep of sorrow now The Saviour’s followers are waking; The Lord hath risen from His knees, His soul resigned on God relies, The cup of vengeance now is full, The Victim waits the sacrifice. Hark! hark! what sounds the stillness break,— The clouds of danger darken o’er Him, The traitor bands surround their Lord, And His betrayer stands before Him. Then love bursts through the bonds of fear— Forth from the scabbard leaps the sword, The apostle strikes the hasty blow To save—or to avenge his Lord! Oh! many a miracle of love The Lord had wrought for souls believing, Now stilling storms, now by His power The wants of multitudes relieving; But the last miracle of Christ, Ere to His fearful trial brought, Was wrought when captive and betrayed— And for His persecutor wrought. He touched the wound—and it was healed; Oh! deed, unmeasured love revealing; Ere it was nailed upon the cross That gracious hand’s last touch was healing! And when the lighter wrongs we bear Rouse in our hearts vindictive fire, Shall not remembrance of that deed Thrill on our souls, and calm our ire? Sweet are the thoughts that wondrous cure Wrought at Gethsemane may yield us; We, too, were rebels to our King, And He, though rebels, touched and healed us. Let us to all men mercy show, As we through only mercy live; Rejoice, like Christ, the poor to bless, Like Christ, the guilty to forgive! XLV. HYMN FOR THE COMMUNION. At the foot of the Cross where my Saviour is bleeding, By faith let me now with His followers bend; Let me hear for my pardon His voice interceding, And see, for my sins, these dear life-drops descend.