Poem December 16, 1939 Issue

The Hills of Galilee

ELLA A. STONE

I love to think of the sunlit hills
In the land of Galilee,
The same fair hills that our Master loved
In his earthly ministry.

The shadows across them softly play;
Dawns touch their summits with rose;
And still the sunset's beautiful light
Upon them radiantly glows.

In the dew-wet morn, the Master's feet
So often those hillsides trod,
To be alone in the hush of dawn,
And there to commune with God.

And upon a hillside softly green
In the sweet, fresh morning air,
With the lilies blooming at his feet
And bird songs everywhere,

He talked of the fatherhood of God
And His ever-watchful care,
And bade us with trusting hearts to be
Carefree as the birds of air.

Forever the hills of Galilee
Will be to memory dear,
Because of him who revealed the Christ,
Ever with us, now and here.

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