In the Garden

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.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice
is so sweet the birds hush their singing.
And the melody that He gave to me,
within my heart is ringing.

I'd stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me be falling.
But He bids me go, through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
and He tells me I am His own;
and the joy we share as we tarry there,
none other has ever known.

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