1 The veil is rent:--our souls draw near
Unto a throne of grace;
The merits of the Lord appear,
They fill the holy place.
2 His precious blood has spoken there,
Before and on the throne:
And His own wounds in heaven declare,
Th' atoning work is done.
3 'Tis finished!--here our souls have rest,
His work can never fail:
By Him, our Sacrifice and Priest,
We pass within the vail.
4 Within the holiest of all,
Cleansed by His precious blood,
Before the throne we prostrate fall,
And worship Thee, O God!
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | The veil is rent:--our souls draw near |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1881 |