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!

O who like Thee, so calm, so bright,
Thou Son of Man, Thou Light of light
O who like Thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe!

O who like Thee so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs of men, before!
So meek, so lowly, yet so high
So glorious in humility!

Death-death that sets the prisoner free
Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to Thee!
Yet love through all Thy anguish glowed,
And mercy in Thy life-blood flowed!

O wondrous Lord, my soul would be
Still more and more conformed to Thee,
With heart engaged, along the road,
To trace Thy footsteps, Son of God!