1 When long the soul had slept in chains, And man to man was stern and cold; When love and worship were but strains That swept the gifted chords of old-- By shady mount and peaceful lake, meek and lowly stranger came, The weary drank the words he spake, The poor and feeble blessed his name.
2 No shrine he reared in porch or grove, No vested priests around him stood-- He went about to teach, and prove The lofty work of doing good. Said he, to those who with him trod, "Would ye be my disciples? Then Evince your ardent love for God By the kind deeds ye do for men."
3 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, The light of better life he shed.
4 Father, the spirit Jesus knew, We humbly ask of thee to-night, That we may be disciples too Of him whose way was love and light. Bright be the places where we tread Amid earth's suffering and its poor, Till we shall come where tears are shed And broken sighs are heard no more.
1 Lord, lead the way the Saviour went By lane and cell obscure, And let our treasures still be spent, Like his, upon the poor.
2 Like him, through scenes of deep distress, Who bore the world's sad weight, We, in their gloomy loneliness, Would seek the desolate.
3 For thou hast placed us side by side In this wide world of ill; And that thy followers may be tried, The poor are with us still.
4 Small are the offerings we can make; Yet thou hast taught us, Lord, If given for the Saviour's sake, They lose not their reward.
1 Who is thy neighbor? he whom thou Hast power to aid or bless; Whose aching heart or burning brow Thy soothing hand may press.
2 Thy neighbor? 'tis the fainting poor, Whose eye with want is dim; O enter thou his humble door, With aid and peace for him.
3 Thy neighbor? he who drinks the cup When sorrow drowns the brim; With words of high sustaining hope, Go thou and comfort him.
4 Thy neighbor? 'tis the weary slave, Fettered in mind and limb; He hath no hope this side the grave; Go thou, and ransom him.
5 Thy neighbor? pass no mourner by; Perhaps thou canst redeem A breaking heart from misery; Go, share thy lot with him.