Cold Was the Grou - Blind Willie Johnson

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