Hallowed forever be that twilight hour
When those disciples went upon their way,
The deepening shadows o'er their spirits lower,
The tender griefs that come with close of day.
A gentle stranger tarried by their side,
And asked them sweetly why they were so sad?
"Did you not hear our Friend was crucified?"
They answered, "How can we again be glad?"
And when the little village came in view,
They said "Abide with us, for it is late,"
So he went in, and sat down with the two,
And took the bread, and blessed it, ere he ate.
Their watching eyes were fastened on his face;
They caught the look which captured them of old,
Only it wore diviner, loftier grace:
Their glorious, risen Savior they behold!
They felt reward for all their bitter pain,
When, lo! he vanished softly from their sight!
But they could never be so sad again.
Who had the memory of that blessed night.
Martha Perry Lowe, 19th cent.; alt.
Tune: ST. WULSTAN (10.10.10.10)
Ivor Atkins, 1916