The Marks of the Lord Jesus

I would bear in my body the dying

Of Him who has died for me—

Here share, O my Lord, Thy rejection

Ere I sit on Thy throne with Thee.

I see Thee alone, broken-hearted,

Of comforters findest Thou none;

Yet Thine was the gladness of Heaven,

The love and the glory Thine own.

The gall and the vinegar only,

The thirst of Thine agony stills;

Yet Thine were the streams and the fountains

Of Thine everlasting hills.

In sorrow, in want, in dishonour,

How dear are Thy footsteps to me;

The fountain is sweet to the thirsty,

But sweeter is thirsting with Thee.

Thus to show to the world that rejects Thee,

To show to the Angels above,

How blessed Thy yoke and Thy burden,

To him who has tasted Thy love.

The maiden who gathereth roses,

Another, another would find;

So sweet are the tracks of Thy sorrow

To him who would follow behind.

Thus would I press on to the glory,

A knight in the army of God,

Whose march will be onward and forward

Because of the foes on the road.

Above me the stars in the heavens,

Stars countless, so many they be;

So glorious, albeit so countless

The sorrows I suffer for Thee.