In The Garden

It's kind of become a tradition during the spring and summer.  On Sunday mornings, I make myself a cup of coffee and walk out early in the morning, and just spend time in my flower beds.  Invariably, this hymn comes to mind.  This is something I posted a few years ago. 

I thought it was time to share it again.




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.

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.

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.

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.