Dark was the night, and cold the ground
On which the Lord was laid;
His sweat like drops of blood ran down;

In agony he prayed.

"Father, remove this bitter cup,

If such Thy sacred will;
If not, content to drink it up
Thy pleasure I fulfill."


Go to the garden, sinner, see
Those precious drops that flow;

The heavy load He bore for thee;
For thee he lies so low.


Then learn of Him the cross to bear;
Thy Father's will obey;
And when temptations press thee near,

Awake to watch and pray.