1 With Joy we meditate the Grace
Of our High-Priest above,
His Heart is made of Tenderness,
His Bowels melt with Love.
2 Touch'd with a Sympathy within,
He knows our feeble Frame;
He knows what sore Temptations mean,
For he hath felt the same.
3 But spotless, innocent and pure,
The great Redeemer stood,
While Satan's fiery Darts he bore,
And did resist to Blood.
4 He in the Days of feeble Flesh
Pour'd out his Cries and Tears,
And in his Measure feels afresh
What ev'ry Member bears.
5 He'll never quench the smoaking Flax,
But raise it to a Flame;
The bruised Reed he never breaks,
Nor scorns the meanest Name.
6 Then let our humble Faith address
His Mercy and his Pow'r;
We shall obtain deliv'ring Grace
In the distressing Hour.
|First Line:||With Joy we meditate the Grace|
|Topic:||Christ''s Compassion to the Afflicted; Christ: His Care of the young and feelbe; Sympathy of Christ(2 more...)|