Not Always on the Mount

Not al­ways on the mount may we

Rapt in the heav’n­ly vi­sion be:

The shores of thought and feel­ing know

The Spir­it’s tid­al ebb and flow.

Lord it is good abid­ing here

We cry

the heav’n­ly pre­sence near:

The vi­sion van­ish­es

our eyes

Are lift­ed in­to va­cant skies.

Yet hath one such ex­alt­ed hour

Upon the soul re­deem­ing pow­er

And its strength

through af­ter days

We tra­vel our ap­point­ed ways

Till all the low­ly vale grows bright

Transfigured in re­mem­bered light

And in un­tir­ing souls we bear

The fresh­ness of the up­per air.

The mount for vi­sion: but be­low

The paths of dai­ly duty go

And nob­ler life there­in shall own

The pat­tern on the mount­ain shown.