First Came the Hour of Prayer

First came the hour of pray­er

Calm in the mount­ain air

And then with sud­den blaze

Came glo­ri­ous sight;

Yet proud of heart

wouldst thou

Be blest on Ta­bor’s brow

Before thy pa­tient pray­ers

Have stormed its height?

Or thou hast slept per­chance;

Oh

for an an­gel’s glance

Oh

for a light to pierce

Mystery to scan!

With face of dazz­ling light

In rai­ment pure and white

With rev­er­ent gaze

be­hold

The Son of Man.

Alas! hadst thou but known

The vi­sion to be shown

Eagerly thou hadst strained

Thine anx­ious eyes;

Thy Lord trans­fig­ured there

The while His un­known pray­er

Rose up

by an­gels borne

To won­der­ing skies.

How hadst thou watched! But now

Before the Al­tered bow

The Al­tered

still for thee

The ve­ry same;

That Babe on Ma­ry’s knee

Now Christ to die for thee

Clothed in a won­drous robe

Of burn­ing flame.

From hid­den grave afar

From mys­tic fie­ry car

Lord of the ag­es past

Future

and space

The liv­ing and the dead

Brings to this mount­ain dread

Bright with the ra­di­ance of

Incarnate grace.

No thun­ders shake the air

No lightn­ings strike des­pair

Yet see the Pro­phet and

Law Giv­er here;

God talks with men

and they

His glo­ry see to­day

Nor fall in dread am­aze

For Christ is near.

Oh

in this aw­ful hour

Of rule and king­ly pow­er

The Lord of Glo­ry now

Speaks un­to them;

Hear

mid the shin­ing light

He tells of com­ing night

Death that awaits Him at

Jerusalem.

Proud heart

when soar­ing high

Scaling the ve­ry sky

Self-throned awhile in some

Seventh heav’n of bliss;

Think thou with tremb­ling breath

Of dark­ness and of death

Thy Lord from Ta­bor’s mount

Hath taught thee this.

And when the cloud is near

And flesh shrinks down in fear

As thou art tread­ing on

Dread paths un­known

O voice of love

be near

Call through the cloud and fear

Lead to the Mount of God

To Je­sus’ throne.