How beauteous were the marks divine

How beauteous were the marks divineThat in thy meekness used to shine,That lit thy path, O Son of God!The lonely path thy feet have trod.

Oh, who like thee, so calm, so mild,So patient, pure, and undefiled?Oh, who like thee did ever goSo sinless through a world of woe?

Oh, who like thee so humbly boreThe scorn, the scoffs of men, before?So meek, so lowly, yet so high,So glorious in humility?

A suffering life by thee was led;Thou hadst not where to lay thy head;And since, O Lord, 't was all for me,Shall I not gladly follow thee?

And death, that sets the prisoner free,Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to thee;Yet love through all thy torture glowed,And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.

O wondrous Lord, my soul would beStill more and more conformed to thee,And learn of thee, the lowly One,And like thee, all my journey run.