I had no thought of what I heard,
As on my bed I lay;
No pre-conceived idea or plan,
Had led me in this way.

A Voice, unbidden, came to me,
From out the ethereal blue;
A Voice from unknown source,
With a message, Oh! so true.

The cup from which the Saviour drank,
In the Upper Room that day
Lies buried deep within the hole,
Where stood His cross, they say.

‘Twas James and John that placed it there,
In blood-soaked soil and tears;
To hide it from idolatrous eyes,
Throughout the coming years.

The Voice, unbidden, came to me
From out the ethereal blue;
Perchance its true, perhaps its so,
Who dare can say – can you?