'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.All Volke, klap julle hande Dieu tout-Puissant, mon Rédempteur Ҷалол бар номат جاڭىرسىن مەنىن ىرىم Irinay Jeso tia Boh prestrel pre mňa bohatý stôl Fie-ne inima plina Руки правды сердце чистоты Isa, Óz shákirtterińe, ólerdiń aldynda Io ti prego o Dio
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