We sang this one in church where I grew up all the time. Very pretty tune. But it’s never really touched me as much as this performance — because I think Emily Ann Roberts believes the lyrics. I’m not sure that we did. I think we wished we did. But if someone had actually taught this from the pulpit — well, our hymnology is often truer than our theology.
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.
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.
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.
I’d stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.