O Galilee, sweet Galilee, Where walk'd the Son of God.
O Galilee, sweet Galilee ! Thy hills are sacred now;
Whose rocks did lend, on wearied nights,
A pillow for His brow, Or from whose crests,
where cedars bend, In silent twilight hour,
He stood enwrapp'd in pray'rful mood,
A waiting God seal'd pow'r.
O Galilee, sweet Galilee ! We claim thee as our own;
Where first He came, whose mission was
To bind all flesh in one;
O native land, O cov'nant land
Of earth's most royal King !
We give thee mead of blessed praise,
While we His glory sing.
"O Galilee !"
M.J.Smalley Arr. by I.H.Meredith