HOW BEAUTEOUS WERE THE MARKS DIVINE.
Reading edition
How beauteous were the marks divine, That in Thy meekness used to shine, That lit Thy lonely pathway trod In wondrous love, O Son of God! Oh, who like Thee, so calm, so bright, So pure, so made to live in light? Oh, who like Thee did ever go So patient through a world of woe? Oh, who like Thee, so humbly bore The scorn, the scoffs of men, before? So meek, forgiving, god-like, high, So glorious in humility? The bending angels stooped to see The lisping infant clasp Thy knee, And smile as in a father's eye, Upon Thy mild divinity. 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. Oh, 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! —A. C. Coxe.