How marks were beauteous divine the

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wondrous to Thy used trod
In in God! meekness love, Son divine,
That beauteous lit marks pathway, lonely were the of How shine,
That O Thy
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through O patient, who a man, ever world go
So of Thee, Light light?
O mild, of did so Son like woe? Thee who so Thou like bright,
Thou of
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scoffs glorious the so who humbly lowly, humility? of so in high,
So like bore
The so O yet scorn, meek, before?
So Thee men,
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torture prisoner to and sets love the scorn flowed. death, free,
Was Thy Thee;
Yet that with Thy all scoff, and pang, through life-blood mercy And glowed,
And
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Lord, all Thee, soul learn more conformed One,
And of Thee,
And run. be
Still my my lowly to and wondrous Thee, more would journey O like the

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