Behold, Where in a Mortal Form

Behold

where in a mor­tal form

Appears each grace di­vine!

The vir­tues

all in Je­sus met

With mild­est ra­di­ance shine.

The larg­est love of hu­man kind

Inspired His god­like breast;

In deeds of mer­cy

words of peace

His kind­ness as ex­pressed.

To spread the rays of heav’n­ly light

To give the mourn­er joy

To preach glad tid­ings to the poor

Was His di­vine em­ploy.

Lowly in heart

to all His friends

A friend and serv­ant found

He washed their feet

He wiped their tears

And heal­ed each bleed­ing wound.

’Midst keen re­proach and cru­el scorn

He meek and pa­tient stood.

His foes

un­grate­ful

sought His life;

He la­bored for their good.

To God He left His right­eous cause

And still His task pur­sued

While hum­ble pray­er

and ho­ly faith

His faint­ing strength re­newed.

At last

in hour of deep dis­tress

Before His Fa­ther’s throne

With soul re­signed He bowed

and said

Thy will

not Mine

be done!

Be Christ our pat­tern and our guide!

His im­age may we bear!

O may we tread His ho­ly steps

His joys and glo­ry share!