A meek and lowly stranger came,
The weary drank the words he spake,
The poor and suffering blessed his name.
2 He went where frenzy held its rule,
Where sickness breathed its spell of pain;
By famed Bethesda’s mystic pool,
And by the darkened gate of Nain.
He soothed the mourner’s troubled breast,
He raised the contrite sinner’s head,
And on the loved ones’ lowly rest