Matthew 8: Poorest of men, with comfort see

Poorest of men, with comfort see
Thy God more indigent than thee;
He had not where to rest:
But if thou in His footsteps tread,
He bids thee lean thy weary head
On thy Redeemer's breast.

Ye rich who bear the Christian name,
Behold with self-abasing shame
Your God by heaven adored,
Ye who increased with goods appear,
O how unlike your Pattern here,
Your poor, afflicted Lord!

He knew not where to lay His head:
But ye in delicacies bred,
In soft luxurious ease,
From earthly things expect content,
And fresh conveniences invent,
And live yourselves to please.

All hail. Thou suffering Son of Man,
Who freely didst for me sustain
The depth of poverty,
I bless my self-denying Lord,
More destitute than beast or bird.
And come to follow Thee.

Detach'd from every good below
I meekly in Thy footsteps go,
Thy poor disciple I,
My Master's lot with joy receive,
Thy life of want and sorrow live
Till on Thy cross I die.