See Him in the Garden Lone

See Him in the gar­den lone

Midnight dark­ness o’er Him;

None but God to hear His moan

Naught but death be­fore Him;

All alone! All alone!

He the wine press treads alone.

All His friends for­sake Him now

None with Him are stay­ing;

Bloody sweat up­on His brow

To His Fa­ther pray­ing;

All alone! All alone!

He the wine press treads alone.

On Him all our sins were laid

Thro’ Him came sal­va­tion;

He for us a ran­som paid

Priceless

pure obla­tion.

All alone! All alone!

He the wine press trod alone.

Man of sor­rows! Born to grief!

For our sins aton­ing;

By whose stripes we find re­lief

Our lost state be­moan­ing;

All alone! All alone!

He the wine press trod alone.