Lord Je­sus, on the holy mount
We would abide with Thee,
Still drinking from the blessèd fount
Of grace, so rich and free.

There prophets praise Thy glo­ri­ous name,
And deeds which Thou hast done;
And there the Fa­ther’s words pro­claim
His own belovèd Son.

The rays of Thy transfigured face
Beam with such golden light
That we would ne­ver leave the place,
Nor lose the heavenly sight.

But there is work on earth to do,
The suffering soul to heal;
The harvest great, the laborers few
Thy kingdom to reveal.

We may not linger on the mount,
Where bright Thy glories shine;
We may not taste the sacred fount
Of blessedness divine.

But let some beams of heavenly light
Make bright our earthly way;
Then grant the beatific sight
Of heaven and endless day.