'Tis midnight, and on Olive's brow The star is dimmed that lately shone; 'Tis midnight, in the garden now The suff'ring Savior prays alone. 'Tis midnight, and from all removed Immanuel wrestles, lone, with fears; E'en the disciple whom He loved Heeds not his Master's grief and tears. 'Tis midnight, from the heav'nly plains Are borne the songs that angels know; Unheard by mortals are the strains That sweetly soothe the Savior's woe.tḥt ạlsẖms Хош Гелдин, Хош Гелдин Блуждали все как овцы Грешни сме, о Господи lm tr ʿyn ạ̹lhaⁿạ gẖyrk 主我心说爱你 Değiştiren Tanrı Roc séculaire zhǔ shì wǒ mì yǒu liáng bàn Dit is wel met my siel
Song not available - connect to internet to try again?