2 Corinthians 8:9.
He reigned in heaven, and angels stood
In silent awe before His throne,
While rays of glory, like a flood
Of ambient lustre, o'er Him shone:
And heaven's eternal arches rang,
Filled with the echo of His Name,
Where thousand times ten thousand sang
With ceaseless joy and glad acclaim;
While ranks of shining seraphim
Struck their bright harps of praise to Him.
He came on earth the Son of Man,
He laid His wondrous glory by —
Who in that human face might scan
Trace of that power that ruled the sky
Few were His hours of rest and brief;
His lips refused the cup of mirth —
A Man of sorrows and of grief,
He bore the destiny of earth:
A day of toil, a night of prayer,
He taught His wearied frame to bear.
He lived in heaven, the King of kings,
The God of hosts, the Lord of all;
And angels spread their glorious wings.
Prompt to obey His every call:
And joy unmingled, unsubdued,
Unknown, ineffable delight,
Fell o'er the blessed throng who stood
Before His footstool day and night;
No eye hath seen, no ear hath heard,
The bliss of heaven's eternal Lord.
He bore on earth a dreary lot,
His holy heart with anguish torn:
He came, His own received Him not,
He drank the dregs of shame and scorn.
Forsaken in His bitterest hour,
His chosen followers left His side:
Can this be He? the God of power!
Despised, rejected, crucified!
A crown of mockery on His head,
And those He loved and trusted, fled!
Yea, this is He, and this is love,
Love unimagined and unknown;
He left His Father's joys above,
Turned from His kingdom and His throne;
Yea, cast aside His holy crown,
A weary wayfarer became;
Bore e'en Jehovah's bitter frown,
Endured the cross, despised the shame.
Then conquered hell and burst the grave,
And rose omnipotent to save.
(Author unknown.)