3 ’Midst keen reproach, and cruel scorn, Patient and meek he stood; His foes, ungrateful, sought his life; He labored for their good. 4 In the last hour of deep distress, Before his Father’s throne, With soul resigned, he bowed, and said, “Thy will, not mine, be done!” 5 Be Christ our pattern and our guide; His image may we bear; O, may we tread his holy steps, His joy and glory share! 150 C. M. The man of sorrows. A pilgrim through this lonely world, The blessed Saviour passed; A mourner all his life was he, A dying Lamb at last. 2 That tender heart which felt for all, For us its life-blood gave; It found on earth no resting-place, Save only in the grave! 3 Such was our Lord: and shall we fear The cross with all its scorn? Or love a faithless, evil world, That wreathed his brow with thorn? 4 No; facing all its frowns or smiles, Like him, obedient still, We homeward press, through storm or calm, To Zion’s blessed hill. 151 C. M. Mighty to save. The winds were howling o’er the deep; Each wave a watery hill; The Saviour wakened from his sleep; He spake, and all was still. 2 The madman in a tomb had made His mansion of despair; Woe to the traveler who strayed, With heedless footsteps, there. 3 He met that glance so thrilling sweet, He heard those accents mild; And, melting at Messiah’s feet, Wept like a weanéd child. 4 O, madder than the raving man! O, deafer than the sea! How long the time since Christ began To call in vain to me! 5 Yet could I hear him once again, As I have heard of old, Methinks he should not call in vain His wanderer to the fold. 152 C. P. M. His unsearchable riches. O could I speak the matchless worth, O could I sound the glories forth, Which in my Saviour shine; I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings, And vie with Gabriel, while he sings In notes almost divine. 2 I’d sing the precious blood he spilt, My ransom from the dreadful guilt Of sin, and wrath divine; I’d sing his glorious righteousness, In which all-perfect, heavenly dress, My soul shall ever shine. 3 I’d sing the characters he bears, And all the forms of love he wears, Exalted on his throne; In loftiest songs of sweetest praise, I would to everlasting days Make all his glories known. 4 Well, the delightful day will come, When my dear Lord will bring me home, And I shall see his face; Then, with my Saviour, Brother, Friend, A blest eternity I’ll spend, Triumphant in his grace.