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6 Once in the circuit of a year,
With blood, but not his own, Aaron within the veil appears
Before the golden throne :
Ascends above the skies,
Shews His own sacrifice.
On Zion's heavenly hill;
And wears His priesthood still. 8 He ever lives to intercede
Before His Father's face;
Nor doubt the Father's grace.
352 Heb. xii. 2.
WATTS. ORD, when my thoughts with wonder roll
And read my Maker's broken laws
Repair'd and honour'd by Thy cross : 2 When I behold death, hell, and sin
Vanquish'd by that dear blood of Thine, And see the man that groan'd and died
Sit glorious by His Father's side ; 3 My passions rise and soar above,
I'm wing'd with faith and fir'd with love ; Fain would I reach eternal things,
And learn the notes that Gabriel sings. 4 But my heart fails, my tongue complains,
For want of their immortal strains ;
353 Heb. ix. 24.
The Victim's blood is shed,
His people's cause to plead :
And bears their names upon His breast. 2 No temple made with hands,
His place of service is :
A heavenly priesthood His :
Are all fulfill’d, and now withdraw. 3 And though a while He be
Hid from the eyes of men,
Their great High Priest again :
354 1 Cor. 1. 4.
1 x 6 7'8. OCK of Ages, cleft for me,
Let the water and the blood,
Save from wrath, and make me pure. 2 Not the labours of my hands
Can fulfi Thy law's demands.
3 In my hand no price I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling ;
Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
When my eyes shall close in death,
Isaiah lxi, 10. C. M. WATTS. ? A , my tongue;
Prepare a tuneful voice;
Aloud will I rejoice.
And made salvation mine; Upon a poor polluted worm
He makes His graces shine. 3 And lest the shadow of a spot
Should on my soul be found,
And cast it all around.
What earthly princes wear! These ornaments, how bright they shine,
How white the garments are ! 6 The Spirit wrought my faith and love,
And hope, and every grace ; But Jesus spent His life to work
The robe of righteousness.
6 Strangely, my soul, art thou arrayed
By the great Sacred Three : In sweetest harmony of praise
Let all my powers agree,
Heb. vi. 18. 8 7'8. C. WESLEY. 1
Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high. Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life be past; Safe into the haven guide ;
O receive my soul at last. 2 Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee.
With the shadow of Thy wing.
Grace to pardon all my sin.
Rise to all eternity. 357 Heb. iv. 14-16. L. M. LOGAN. 1 W THERE high the heavenly temple
2 He who for men their Surety stood,
And pour'd on earth His precious blood,
The Saviour and the Friend of man. 3 Though now ascended up on high,
He bends on earth a brother's eye:
He knows the frailty of our frame. 4 Our Fellow-sufferer yet retains
A fellow-feeling of our pains;
His tears, His agonies, and cries.
The Man of Sorrows had a part:
And to the sufferer sends relief. 6 With boldness, therefore, at the throne,
Let us make all our sorrows known;
To help us in the evil hour.
WATTS. 1 H ?
row strong Thine arm is, mighty God I Jesus, how sweet Thy graces are !
Who would not love the Lamb ? 2 He has done more than Moses did,
Our Prophet and our King;
And taught our lips to sing.
Th’Egyptian host was drown'd; But IIis own blood hides all our sins, And guilt no more is found.