See the lonely Man now bending,
In the lone Gethsemane,
Drops of blood His conflict marking
Whilst He prays in agony!
Oh! what a load was Thine to bear
Alone in that dark hour,
Our sins in all their terror there,
God's wrath and Satan's power.
The higher mysteries of Thy fame
The creature's grasp transcend;
The Father only Thy blest name
Of Son can comprehend.
Worthy, O Lamb of God, art Thou,
That every knee to Thee should bow.