1. Jesus, in You our eyes behold
    A thousand glories more
Than the rich gems and polished gold
    The sons of Aaron wore.

2. They first their own burnt off’rings brought,
    To purge themselves from sin;
Your life was pure, without a spot,
    And all Your nature clean.

3. Fresh blood, as constant as the day,
    Was on their altar spilt:
But Your one off’ring takes away
    Forever all our guilt.

4. Their priesthood ran through sev’ral hands,
    For mortal was their race:
Your never-changing office stands
    Eternal as Your days.

5. Once, in the circuit of the year,
    With blood, but not their own,
Did they within the veil appear
    Before the golden throne.

6. But Christ, by His own pow’rful blood,
    Ascends above the skies;
And in the presence of our God
    Shows His own sacrifice.

7. Jesus, the King of glory, reigns
    On Zion’s heav’nly hill,
Looks like a Lamb that has been slain,
    And wears His priesthood still.

8. He ever lives to intercede
    Before His Father’s face:
Give Him, my soul, your cause to plead,
    Nor ever doubt His grace.

Text: Isaac Watts (1674-1748)
Tune: F. Zimmerman


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Lamb of God