O'er the rude sandy lea,

Where stately Jordan flows by many a palm,

Or where Gennesaret's wave

Delights the flowers to lave,

That o'er her western slope breathe airs of balm?

All through the summer night,

Those blossoms red and bright [185]

Spread their soft breasts, unheeding, to the breeze

Like hermits watching still

Around the sacred hill,

Where erst our Saviour watch'd upon His knees.

The Paschal moon above

Seems like a saint to rove,

Left shining in the world with CHRIST alone;

Below, the lake's still face

Sleeps sweetly in th' embrace

Of mountains terraced high with mossy stone.

Here may we sit, and dream

Over the heavenly theme,

Till to our soul the former days return;

Till on the grassy bed,

Where thousands once He fed,

The world's incarnate Maker we discern.

O cross no more the main [186] ,

Wandering so wild and vain,

To count the reeds that tremble in the wind,

On listless dalliance bound,

Like children gazing round,

Who on GOD's works no seal of Godhead find: --

Bask not in courtly bower,

Or sun-bright hall of power,

Pass Babel quick, and seek the holy land --

From robes of Tyrian dye

Turn with undazzled eye

To Bethlehem's glade, or Carmel's haunted strand.

Or choose thee out a cell

In Kedron's storied dell,

Beside the springs of Love, that never die;

Among the olives kneel

The chill night-blast to feel,

And watch the Moon that saw thy Master's agony.

Then rise at dawn of day,

And wind thy thoughtful way,

Where rested once the Temple's stately shade, --

With due feet tracing round

The city's northern bound,

To th' other holy garden, where the LORD was laid.

-- Who thus alternate see

His death and victory,

Rising and falling as on angel wings,

They, while they seem to roam,

Draw daily nearer home, --

Their heart untravell'd still adores the King of kings.

---

Footnotes:

[185] See Note

[186] See Note