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.
Chorus:
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 have to me
Within my heart is ringing.
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.
One day in
April, 1912, I was seated in the dark room, where I kept my
photographic equipment and organ. I drew my Bible toward me; it
opened at my favorite chapter, John 20--whether by chance or
inspiration let each reader decide. That meeting of Jesus and
Mary had lost none of its power and charm.
As I read it
that day, I seemed to be part of the scene. I became a silent
witness to that dramatic moment in Mary's life, when she knelt
before her Lord, and cried, Rabboni!
My hands
were resting on the Bible while I stared at the light blue wall.
As the light faded, I seemed to be standing at the entrance of a
garden, looking down a gently winding path, shaded by olive
branches. A woman in white, with head bowed, hand clasping her
throat, as if to choke back her sobs, walked slowly into the
shadows. It was Mary. As she came to the tomb, upon which she
placed her hand, she bent over to look in, and hurried away.
John, in
flowing robe, appeared, looking at the tomb; then came Peter,
who entered the tomb, followed slowly by John.
As they
departed, Mary reappeared; leaning her head upon her arm at the
tomb, she wept. Turning herself, she saw Jesus standing, so did
I. I knew it was He. She knelt before Him, with arms
outstretched and looking into His face cried, Rabboni!
I awakened
in sunlight, gripping the Bible, with muscles tense and nerves
vibrating. Under the inspiration of this vision, I wrote as
quickly as the words could be formed the poem exactly as it has
since appeared. That same evening I wrote the music.