As ancient exile at the close of day, Paused on his country's farthest hills to view Those valleys sinking in the distant blue Where all the joys and hopes of childhood lay; So now across the years our thoughts will stray To those whose hearts were ever brave and true, Who gave the hope and faith from which we drew The strength to climb thus far upon our way. As he amid the rocks and twilight gray, Saw rocks and steeps transform to stairs, and knew He wandered not alone; so may we too See this, our tentless crag where wild winds play A Bethel.
