That in thy meekness used to shine,
That lit thy lonely pathway, trod
In wondrous love, O Son of God!

2 O, who like thee,--so calm, so bright,
So pure, so made to live in light?
O, who like thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe?

3 O, who like thee so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs, of men before?
So meek, forgiving, godlike, high,
So glorious in humility?

4 The bending angels stooped to see
The lisping infant clasp thy knee,
And smile, as in a father's eye,
Upon thy mild divinity.

5 And death, which 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.

6 O, in thy light be mine to go,
Illuming all my way of woe;
And give me ever on the road
To trace thy footsteps, Son of God!

125. L. M. Brettell.

The Life of Jesus.

1 He lived as none but he has lived,
That wisest Teacher from above;
He died as none but he has died,--
His every act an act of love.

2 His fervent piety was breathed
To the lone waste, the desert hill;
And in the haunts of men he sought
To do his Heavenly Father's will.

3 He preached the gospel to the poor,
Beside the couch of anguish stood,
Consoled the sufferer, healed the sick,
And went about still doing good.

4 With sinners he conversed, and gave
Peace to the weary, troubled mind;
Yet free from stain till life's last hour,
In him his foes no fault could find.

5 Born 'midst the humblest sons of earth,
All earth's temptations he withstood;
And yet all human praise renounced,
Declaring God alone is good.

126. P. M. Anonymous.

He Had Not Where to Lay His Head.

1 Birds have their quiet nest,
Foxes their holes, and man his peaceful bed;
All creatures have their rest,
But Jesus had not where to lay his head.

2 And yet he came to give
The weary and the heavy-laden rest;
To bid the sinner live,
And soothe our griefs to slumber on his breast.

3 Let the birds seek their nest,
Foxes their holes, and man his peaceful bed;
Come, Saviour, in my breast
Come and repose thine oft r