High atop the peaks of ease,
Where all is calm and fair.
Where gentle breezes lift the soul,
I find my Savior there.
Drifting back to the plains below,
Back to the barren ground.
My heart remains light and free,
For I hear my Savior's sound.
Now down into the depths of gloom,
Dreary valley's pierce the land.
Yet the other side is but steps away,
For my Savior extends His hand.
Whether in the heavens high above,
Or in a cold and dismal place,
My feet are sure, my resolve is strong,
Enclosed in arms of grace.
So count me among that happy throng,
Rejoicing that our souls are stored.
Fearing not to admit weaknesses,
And boasting proudly in our Lord.
