O Lord of Easter, I, to thee,
Would unbelief confide;
With thy disciple I would feel
Thy wounded hands and side.
Would unbelief confide;
With thy disciple I would feel
Thy wounded hands and side.
O Lord of Easter, I would strive
To keep this festal day,
All dread and darkening doubt, by faith,
Forever rolled away.
To keep this festal day,
All dread and darkening doubt, by faith,
Forever rolled away.
THE UPLANDS
In the valley shadows gather,
Mists the light of heaven obscure,
On the uplands lies the sunshine—
There the air is keen and pure.
Mists the light of heaven obscure,
On the uplands lies the sunshine—
There the air is keen and pure.
In the valley of our doubtings
Mists of tears shall dim the eye;
Climb we bravely to the uplands,
There to view a cloudless sky.
Mists of tears shall dim the eye;
Climb we bravely to the uplands,
There to view a cloudless sky.
Let us leave the vale behind us,
Cease to dread the steep ascent:
Holy feet have left their imprint,
Follow we the way they went;
Cease to dread the steep ascent:
Holy feet have left their imprint,
Follow we the way they went;
Till we, too, reach Pisgah's summit,
Cling we to the Guiding Hand,
For the golden, glorious uplands
Are to us a Promised Land.
Cling we to the Guiding Hand,
For the golden, glorious uplands
Are to us a Promised Land.
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