What grace, O Lord, and beau­ty shone
Around Thy steps be­low!
What pa­tient love was seen in all
Thy life and death of woe.

For, ev­er on Thy bur­dened heart
A weight of sor­row hung;
Yet no un­gen­tle, mur­mur­ing word
Escaped Thy si­lent tongue.

Thy foes might hate, des­pise, re­vile,
Thy friends un­faith­ful prove;
Unwearied in for­giv­eness still,
Thy heart could on­ly love.

O give us hearts to love like Thee!
Like Thee, O Lord, to grieve
Far more for oth­ers’ sins than all
The wrongs that we re­ceive.

One with Thy­self, may ev­ery eye
In us, Thy breth­ren, see
The gen­tle­ness and grace that spring
From un­ion, Lord, with Thee.