And when he saw that they would make him king,
He left the multitudes and went his way.
The sun was sinking, and the mountains seemed
To catch in their high peaks its last warm ray,
And flood the path he trod with burnished gold;
Then Jesus was alone, and it was night.
But in those hours of watch, as he communed
In silent prayer upon that mountain height,
'Twould seem as though the very heavens broke,
Flooding the stillness of his thought with light.
What mighty messages from heavenly hosts,
What angel stimulus of courage came,
As Jesus claimed his heritage of Love,
To be beloved of Love—at one with God!
Out on the lake his friends were weary, tossing—
How dark it seemed! How far away from home!
A mighty wind whipped through their sails and boiled
Down in deep caverns 'neath the spray and foam,
Till Jesus came to them across the sea,
And that clear voice they knew and loved so well
Rang out above the tempest's boisterous glee,
"Be not afraid!" How oft they'd heard him say
Those reassuring words, which broke the roar
Of storm, and hate, and tumult, and the sea
Was calm and still—" 'Tis I, be not afraid!"
For as a babe upon its mother's breast
After its fears and childish stress are stilled,
Will feel a quietude and safe repose,
So sank the wind, and sighed itself to rest.
And then how safe his loved ones felt once more,
As gladly they received him in the boat,
And to their waking thought, what bliss to see—
Immediately the ship was at the shore!
