Bid me come up to thy mountain

Bid me come low and to die

For the sake of treasure’s fountain

Bid me come Lord Jesus nigh

Here for gainless plunder I’ve spilt

From refuse piled summit

Here I reckon righteous scales tilt

But I for long will plummet

Rescue me this reckless stranger

Inheritance forged in mirrors

Cracks turned crags for cliffs to wager

Taut the thread that held for years

Now I have brought scores to ramble

Plucking loose their faith-held knot

Beckoning to my dear gamble

Dreams of wicker bridges sought

Witness for the futile high place

Where black soot the mold spores grow

Yet burnt the fragrant scent of grace

To your throne may this smoke flow

Hope at last to leave the levy

Where held I kept waters’ tide

Joined in truth no less from weary

The waves I pray never subside

Where once I spoke my hills grandeur

Now but a steppe ‘mongst the field

To behold how great the danger

Summit-view your harvest yield

I make my way to your fountain

Not alone for you my side

Though I had not climbed this mountain

Look in awe at path behind

Can this journey take me onward

A wayward man most presently

A path paved to sojourn upward

Bid come a’pilgrim now to thee