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