One hour there is in history’s page
Pre-eminent o’er all the past
‘Twill shine and shine from age to age,
While earth, while heaven itself shall last.
O’ercome by time’s oblivious power,
While earthly glories all decay,
The memory of that blessed hour,
Shall never, never pass away.
A watch-fire on a lofty hill,
Conspicuous o’er the waste of years,
That friendly beacon blazing still,
The weary, way-worn pilgrim cheers.
Thou’lt say – what deed of glory gave
Such lustre to that single hour?
Go – ask the earth, the sun, the grave Â–
They all confessed its thrilling power.
Aye, wrapped at noon in deepest night,
The trembling earth it shook with dread,
The sun at mid-day lost its light,
The opening grave gave up its dead.
Child of the world, ’tis not for thee
To feel its heart-consoling power,
Dead – dead to God – thine eye can see
No glory in that wondrous hour!
Christian, ’tis thine alone to know,
And prize it more than all beside,
So bright with love, so dark with woe,
The gracious hour when Jesus died!
Sir Edward Denny. 1796-1889.