The sunshine sleeps upon the hills of Canaan’s land,
The fruitful vales and bubbling, gushing streams,
As when on Pisgah’s lonely height did Moses stand,
To view the prospect of his pilgrim dreams.
A land with milk and honey richly running o’er,
Whose city walls rose towering ’gainst the sky,
Where God’s impartial hand yields bounteous store,
And, steeped in luscious richness, sunny vineyards lie!
Unrealized to nature its possession, but to faith,
His heart the dazzling landscape could embrace,
And whilst he stands, with eye undim and unabated strength,
He can God’s promise and eternal purpose trace.
The conflict and the leadership are over now,
The burden and the heat of life’s long pilgrim days;
And he, with spirit stilled and peace-sealed brow,
Knows disappointment merged in glorious praise.
We stand, not on majestic heights, as Moses stood,
But in the vale, to view our promised land —
A vale of tears, where rolls death’s mighty flood,
But Christ has triumphed where no man could stand.
To contemplate and gaze on Christ will bring
Rich fruitfulness to each believer’s heart;
In Him such varied treasures cluster round and
spring,
That admiration lends a captive willing part.
Then stand with Him; thy heavenly portion taste;
Communion with Himself unveils all mystery;
His grasp of love forbids all needless haste,
And, lost in Him, my soul! lose all identity.
B. B.