"For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." Heb. iv, 15. As oft, with worn and weary feet,
We tread earth's rugged valley o'er,
The thought,—how comforting and sweet!—
Christ trod this very path before;
Our wants and weaknesses he knows,
From life's first dawning to its close, Do sickness, feebleness, or pain,
Or sorrow in our path appear,
The recollection will remain,
More deeply did he suffer here.
His life, how truly sad and brief,
Filled up with suffering and with grief! If Satan tempt your heart to stray,
And whisper evil things within,
So did he, in the desert way,
Assail our Lord with thoughts of sin;
When weak, and in a feeble hour,
The tempter came with all his power. Just such as I, this earth he trod,
With every human ill but sin;
And though indeed the Son of God,
As I am now, so he has been.
My God, my Saviour, look on me,
With pity, love, and sympathy.