Ye fair green hills of Galilee,
That girdle quiet Nazareth,
What glorious vision did ye see,
When He Who conquered sin and death
Your flowery slopes and summits trod,
And grew in grace with man and God?

We saw no glory crown His head
As childhood ripened into youth;
No angels on His errands sped;
He wrought no sign; but meekness, truth,
And duty marked each step He trod,
And love to man, and love to God.

Jesus! my Savior, Master, King,
Who didst for me the burden bear;
While saints in heaven Thy glory sing,
Let me on earth Thy likeness wear;
Mine be the path Thy feet have trod:
Duty, and love, to man and God.