He took Peter and John and James, and went up into a mountain to pray. And as He prayed, the fashion of His countenance was altered, and His raiment was white and glistening.@Luke 9:28–29
portrait
William C. Dix (1837–1898)

Will­iam C. Dix, A Vi­sion of All Saints, and Oth­er Po­ems (Lon­don: John Hodg­es, 1871), pag­es 59–61, alt.

Ash­ga­bat Al­dine S. Kief­fer, 1882 (🔊 pdf nwc).

illustration
Transfiguration of Christ
by Raphael

First came the hour of prayer,
Calm in the mountain air,
And then with sudden blaze
Came glorious sight;
Yet proud of heart, wouldst thou
Be blest on Tabor’s brow,
Before thy patient prayers
Have stormed its height?

Or thou hast slept perchance;
Oh, for an angel’s glance,
Oh, for a light to pierce,
Mystery to scan!
With face of dazzling light,
In raiment pure and white,
With reverent gaze, behold
The Son of Man.

Alas! hadst thou but known
The vision to be shown,
Eagerly thou hadst strained
Thine anxious eyes;
Thy Lord transfigured there,
The while His unknown prayer
Rose up, by angels borne
To wondering skies.

How hadst thou watched! But now,
Before the Altered bow,
The Altered, still for thee,
The very same;
That Babe on Mary’s knee,
Now Christ to die for thee,
Clothed in a wondrous robe
Of burning flame.

From hidden grave afar,
From mystic fiery car,
Lord of the ages past,
Future, and space,
The living and the dead
Brings to this mountain dread,
Bright with the radiance of
Incarnate grace.

No thunders shake the air,
No lightnings strike despair,
Yet see the Prophet and
Law Giver here;
God talks with men, and they
His glory see today,
Nor fall in dread amaze,
For Christ is near.

Oh, in this awful hour
Of rule and kingly power,
The Lord of Glory now
Speaks unto them;
Hear, mid the shining light,
He tells of coming night,
Death that awaits Him at
Jerusalem.

Proud heart, when soaring high,
Scaling the very sky,
Self-throned awhile in some
Seventh heav’n of bliss;
Think thou with trembling breath
Of darkness and of death,
Thy Lord from Tabor’s mount
Hath taught thee this.

And when the cloud is near,
And flesh shrinks down in fear,
As thou art treading on
Dread paths unknown,
O Voice of Love, be near,
Call through the cloud and fear,
Lead to the Mount of God,
To Jesus’ throne.