Where sunlit dwellings vales and uplands throng.
It bids thy fretted, fainting heart be strong,
It whispers of a glory passing show,
Of loftier intercommune thou mayst know
Than mountain top, skies’ sweep, or forest song.
Above yon hamlet gleams a glittering cross,
A beacon light to show where dwells the Lord.
He calls! our brethren call! Can that be loss
Which brings us nearer Him whose life outpoured
Hath power to right all wrongs, lift this poor dross