And just look at the first verse again:
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear
The
Son of God discloses
So I assume it’s about Jesus too
I always assumed the song was about Jesus’ agony in the garden in some way, though I’ve never heard it at church. There’s an Andy Griffith movie where he plays a pastor of some sort, and the choir is rehearsing this song in one scene.
I believe it is, too (having grown up Protestant and singing this song). It’s not so much the presence of first person pronouns that I believe is the issue, but
how they’re used. I’m not particularly fond of that hymn though.
For example–a song that we sang when I was a Protestant that I still love, and I quite frankly can’t find any discord w/ Catholic theology:
Take My Life and Let It Be (written by a 19th century Anglican)
Take my life, and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice, and let me sing always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use every power as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.
Yes, the first person is heavily present, but second person understood is also present, and the Person addressed is God, asking Him to take the singer and conform said singer to His Will in every possible respect. Make a really nice recessional, I’d think.
Or this one, sung every All Saints’ when I was Episcopalian:
(Again, written by an Anglican–interestingly enough, intended for her children, not a wider audience, but this is a ‘children’s hymn’ that wears well into an adult audience, unlike the munching caterpillars mentioned earlier in the thread.)
I sing a song of the saints of God,
Patient and brave and true,
Who toiled and fought and lived and died
For the Lord they loved and knew.
And one was a doctor,
And one was a queen,
And one was a shepherdess on the green:
They were all of them saints of God—and I mean,
God helping, to be one too.
They loved their Lord so dear, so dear,
And his love made them strong;
And they followed the right, for Jesus’ sake,
The whole of their good lives long.
And one was a soldier,
And one was a priest,
And one was slain by a fierce wild beast:
And there’s not any reason—no, not the least,
Why I shouldn’t be one too.
They lived not only in ages past,
There are hundreds of thousands still,
The world is bright with the joyous saints
Who love to do Jesus’ will.
You can meet them in school, or
In lanes, or at sea,
In church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea,
For the saints of God are just folk like me,
And I mean to be one too.
It’d be a nice recessional at the end of All Saints’ Day Mass, maybe? Certainly seems a good reminder of what we ought to be aspiring to.