I
The Christ on Olive's mount in prayer
His heart to God exprest;
And as they held sweet converse there,
His soul with peace was blest.
II
Far from the din of troubled life,
The tumult, and the swell,
A silence, stilling earthly strife,
Upon His spirit fell.
III
And there a voice whose soothing tone
The trusting spirit filled,
Came with that grace by which alone
Our great unrest is stilled.
IV
O may the blessed thought, divine,
That moved the Christ to prayer,
Our weary, anxious souls incline
Like peace and joy to share;
V
And on the mount where God is met,
May we the solace know,
That found His soul on Olivet,
Who shared our life below.
Hymns from the Morningland, 1911