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tr., John Brownlie




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.


Far from the din of troubled life,

The tumult, and the swell,

A silence, stilling earthly strife,

Upon His spirit fell.


And there a voice whose soothing tone

The trusting spirit filled,

Came with that grace by which alone

Our great unrest is stilled.


O may the blessed thought, divine,

That moved the Christ to prayer,

Our weary, anxious souls incline

Like peace and joy to share;


And on the mount where God is met,

May we the solace know,

That found His soul on Olivet,

Who shared our life below.

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