In the Garden of Gethsemane,
His Spirit groaned in agony,
If there's another way for me
To save men's souls and set them free,
Let this cup now pass from me-
This cruel death on Calvary.
Yet not my will, but thine be done,
Cried Jesus Christ, God's precious Son;
Another way? No, there is none,
God gently told His chosen one;
The battle fought, the victory won,
God's final plan had now begun.
In His pain, our Savior knelt
With piercing anguish prayed and wept
Till drops of blood mixed with His sweat,
While His disciples soundly slept;
Watch and pray, He’d said, and yet
Their vigilance for Him not kept.
Into the garden, soldiers came;
Judas, playing Satan's game,
Kissed His cheek, then called His name
With no remorse, no guilt or shame;
But on him place not all the blame
For we were guilty just the same.
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