So many hills arising, green and gray,
On earth's large round, and that one hill to say:
"I was his bearing-place!" On earth's wide breast
So many maids! and she — of all most blest —
Heavily mounting Bethlehem, to be
His mother!—Holy maid of Galilee!
Hill with the olives, and the little town!
If rivers from their crystal founts flow down,
If 'twas the Dawn which did Day's gold unbar,
Ye were beginnings of the best we are,
The most we see, the highest that we know,
The lifting heavenward of man's life below.
"The Light of the World."
Poems
So many hills arising, green and gray...
From the December 1906 issue of The Christian Science Journal
The Light of the World
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