'Tis not the law of ten commands
On holy Sinai giv'n,
Or sent to men by Moses' hands,
Can bring us safe to heav'n.
'Tis not the blood which Aaron spilt,
Nor smoke of sweetest smell,
Can buy a pardon for our guilt,
Or save our souls from hell.
Aaron the priest resigns his breath
At God's immediate will;
And in the desert yields to death,
Upon th' appointed hill.
And thus on Jordan's yonder side
The tribes of Isr'el stand,
While Moses bowed his head and died
Short of the promised land.
Isr'el, rejoice, now Joshua* leads,
He'll bring your tribes to rest;
So far the Savior's name exceeds
The ruler and the priest.