How Marvelous E

For me it was in the garden
He prayed, "Not my will, but thine"
He had no tears for His own griefs,
but sweat drops of blood for mine.

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He took my sins and my sorrows,
He made them His very own;
He bore the burden to Calv'ry,
and suffered and died alone.

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When with the ransomed in glory
His face I at last shall see,
'Twill be my joy thro' the ages,
to sing of His love for me.