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450t Burford


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 fulfil."

Go to the garden, sinner; see
Those precious drops that flow;
The heavy load He bore for thee;
For thee He lies so low.

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