WHEN the Lord of Love was here,
Happy hearts to Him were dear,
Though. His heart was sad;
Worn and lonely for our sake,
Yet He turned aside to make
All the weary glad.
Meek and lowly were His ways;
From His loving, grew His praise,
From His giving, prayer :
All the outcasts thronged to hear;
All the sorrowful drew near
To enjoy His care.