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THE CHRIST OF THE ANDES
Far, far the mountain-peak from me
Where lone he stands, with look caressing;
Yet from the valley, wistfully
I lift my dreaming eyes, and see
His hand stretched forth in blessing.
Never bird sings nor blossom blows
Upon that summit chill and breathless,
Where throned he waits amid the snows;
But from his presence wide outflows
Love that is warm and deathless!
O Symbol of the great release
From war and strife!—unfailing fountain
To which we turn for joy's increase,
Fain would we climb to heights of Peace—
Thy peace upon the mountain!
