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Horeb's mountain top of old
Held the “Burning Bush,” we're told,
Moses was commissioned there,
Israel's freedom to declare.

Sinai became the mount,
If we have a true account,
Where the decalogue was made,
And where Moses often prayed.

From the top of Pisgah, grand,
Moses viewed the promised land;
Moab's plains, not far away,
Gave to him his dying day.

David bought the thresher's lot,
Mount Moriah was the spot,
Blood so stained his hands with guilt,
Solomon the temple built.

Greatest sermon men record,
On the mountain by the Lord
It was preached and gave the plan
How to use a fellow-man.

Jesus' countenance was bright,
All His raiment, too, was white;
Moses and Elias came,
Visitors in heaven's name:

“This is my beloved Son,”
Said a voice when all was done,
Peter saw the holy sight,
On the mountain, in the night.

On the mount of Calvary,
Jesus died to make us free,
Took His leave for realms above,
From the Olivet of Love.

Life itself is full of hills,
Mountains, valleys, plains and rills,
Rivers, oceans, gulfs and lakes—
Beautiful the world it makes.

As the years of time shall roll,
In the mountain of the soul,
God communes with ev'ry one
Who will pray, “Thy will be done.”

Horeb is the mount of call,
To our life-work, one and all,
What the “Burning Bush” shall say,
We should cheerfully obey.

On the Sinai within,
All the laws of life begin,
In the Pisgah's we delight,
Heaven's Canaan comes to sight.

Our Moriah's will resound
With sweet music all around,
In the temple of the soul,
Ceaseless praises e'er shall roll.

On the mountain we are changed,
From the sins of life estranged,
Heaven's visitors attend,
Bringing tidings of the end.

That we make on Calvary,
Sacrifices, all agree,
Love of self is crucified,
Every idol laid aside.

Life's ideals, pure we get,
From the mount of Olivet;
On their pinions fly away
To the realms of perfect day.
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