I come to the garden alone, While the dew is still on the roses; And the voice I hear falling on my ear, The Son of God discloses. And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known. He speaks, and the sound of His voice Is so sweet the birds hush their singing; And the melody that He gave to me, Within my heart is ringing. I'd stay in the garden with Him, Though the night around me be falling; But He bids me go; thru the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.Soʻragin В досуге ль за трудом Chwałę daj Panu, o duszo moja ఆశ్చర్యకరుడు ఆలోచనకర్త Tu es Dieu de cette ville Choeur des bienheureux Шапалақтаймын Хер заман Раб'бе ьовгюлер сунаджаъм Время ты куда улетаешь يسوع سؤل قلبي إنت
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