Where rocky mountains prop the skies,
And round the smiling landscape lies,
Whilst you look down with tearful eyes
On grovelling man,
My sympathetic fancy flies,
The scene to scan.

From Pisgah's top we then survey
The blissful realms of endless day,
And all the short but narrow way
That lies between,
Whilst Faith emits a heavenly ray,
And cheers the scene.

With you I wander on the shore
To hear the angry surges roar,
Whilst foaming through the sands they pour
With constant roll,
And meditations heavenward soar,
And charm the soul.

On life's rough sea we're tempest-driven
In crazy barks, our canvas riven!
Such is the lot to mortals given
Where sins resort:
But he whose anchor's fixed in heaven
Shall gain the port.

Though swelling waves oft beat him back,