Alone with Thee upon the mountain height,
When shine the stars o'er canopy of night,
And gentle moon, aglow with her soft light,
Doth rise, proclaiming Love's supremacy,
And all is still; 'tis then I do delight
To sit and think on Jesus' ministry,
Whose every thought and deed was given for Thee.
For thus, when wearied by the heat and glare
Of day, he sat, and rapt in ceaseless prayer,
His burden laid upon Thy loving care,
Drew sweet refreshment from Thy helping hand.
Then on the plain, as unto him they bare
The halt, the maimed, Thy love with them he'd share,
And they were healed at his express command.
Dear Father, I would gain the Christlike mind
Which was in Jesus, and aspire to find
The power he knew. His life was meek, resigned
Unto Thy will; in all he did obey.
Like him, reflecting Thee, I too would bind
The broken-hearted, show unto the blind
The way of Truth, which leads to perfect day.
