Spencer W. Kimball:

One starts to climb Mt. Graham

From cactus covered hills

Dry from summer’s heat.

Our feet

Plod up the dried out slopes.

Then higher as we go,

The lupine and the

Blue-bell show

Their graceful heads.

And higher still

The columbine nods

Graceful stem as aspen

Quivers in the wind.

The air now cool

And fresh is fragrant

From the scent of pine

And fir—

And from the summit

One can see

From here to beyond eternity.

Far far below is stretched

The land

Reaching out on every hand

Farther by far than

One can see.

What boy can climb this

Solemn height

And not be touched by

Heaven’s light—

And know the Maker of the land

Which stretches far on every hand.

What boy can fail

To grow in heart and mind

When sheltered in the valley.

He lifts his eyes each day

And sees the mountain part the

Veil of clouds to pray.

No more his voice

Rings out with firmer tones.

His poetry is spoken

In a quiet way.

This newest psalm, created

For this House,

Is softly said

To warm our hearts today.

Not like the mighty organ

Is the sound,

But gently said,

As though a harp is played,

The sound sweeping

The strings in quiet

Melody. While we,

Straining to catch

Each nuance of the song,

Will hear the message

And remember long.

I did not ask for this!

Lord, Thou knowest that

I prayed he might be spared

Longer to lead the Church.

His strength was mighty in its power.

How can I in this hour

Hope to carry on what he has done

Find strength to drive this body

Worn and patched, repaired

And faltering, unto the heights

Where he has carried on?

Then from the heavens seem to

Come the words to comfort him:

My son, why dost thou doubt?

Hast thou not known that I can

Give thee strength unto the renewing

Of thy body, aged though it be?

Hast thou a heart which beats quite constantly?

Hast thou not voice,

Vibrant and convincing:

Thou dost not sing,

Yet I have given thee a song

To sing to all my saints.

And as thou singest so the

Saints shall hear and

Understand, and you

Will do your part to lead

My people to their promised land.

Thy servant, Lord,

Has answered to thy call

To be thy mouthpiece

On the earth—unto its farthest part.

Give him strong heart

To bear thy burden well;

Enlarge his voice

That he may tell

Thy message to

Thy people, Lord,

And to the far-flung

Who have not yet heard.

O Lord, we know he is thy chosen seer.

As he now speaks,

Give us the ear to hear.

Lengthen your stride, my people.

Span the continents

With mighty leaps.

Quicken your pace

Until the word of God

Reaches every race

Of men upon the earth.

Raise your sights

Until from every hearth

A mighty song bursts forth

Acknowledging

Christ is the Lord on earth.

I saw you sitting on the stand

Last Sunday night,

And saw you reach your hand

To hers

And hold it tight.

I saw

But didn’t mean to see

The quick, exchanged

Glance.

No word was said,

No spoken sound

Escaped your lips—

A quiet smile

Illumined up her face

The softened look of love,

Of confidence serene.

Somehow I felt I’d been

Within some sacred place

Had seen what only angels

See.

A small glimpse of eternity.