In the land where Jesus wandered
Stand the same strong hills he knew,
And above the sunlit landscape
Stretches the same vault of blue.
Still the dawn comes stealing softly
O'er the lake on which he trod,
Touching with a rose-lit radiance
Mountains where he talked with God.
Springtime brings the same bright lilies,
With their beauty and their grace;
Blossoms still yield up their incense
In that wondrous, hallowed place.
And the same stars keep their vigil
O'er the land he loved so well;
Still the birds in their sweet singing
Seem of that fair life to tell.
And we have the tender promise
That Love's presence he revealed
Will abide with us forever,
Ever be our guide and shield.
All the sweetness of his nature,
All his purity and peace,
Still are here in fullest measure,
Gifts from God that never cease.
Oh, like him, may we strive always
To reflect that Christly love,
That with tender, gentle healing
Brings God's blessing from above.
