He "had not where to Lay his Head"

The conies had their hiding-place, / The wily fox with stealthy tread / A covert found, but Christ, the Lord, / Had not a place to lay his head.

The eagle had an eyrie home, / The blithesome bird its quiet rest, / But not the humblest spot on earth / Was by the Son of God possessed.

Princes and kings had palaces, / With grandeur could adorn each tomb, / For Him who came with love and life, / They had no home, they gave no room.

The hands whose touch sent thrills of joy / Through nerves unstrung and palsied frame, / The feet that travelled for our need, / Were nailed unto the cross of shame.

How dare I murmur at my lot, / Or talk of sorrow, pain and loss, / When Christ was in a manger laid, / And died in anguish on the cross.

That homeless one beheld beyond / His lonely agonizing pain, / A love outflowing from His heart, / That all the wandering world would gain.