1 In Gethsemane
Jesus I can see,
Humbly bowed, oh, hear his bitter moan!
None his grief to share,
He must meekly bear
All the world of guilt and sin alone.

2 Dark Gethsemane,
Oft I think o thee,
Where those crimson drops in mercy fell
From that sacred brow.
That in mercy now
With my helpless soul it might be well.

3 Sad Gethsemane,
Thou shalt ever be
Dear unto my mem’ry more and more;
For within thy bow’rs
Passed those dreary hours,
When my load of sin the Savior bore.