And sing in life or death,—
My Lord, Thy will be done.
—Unidentified.
HOW BEAUTEOUS WERE THE MARKS DIVINE.
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?