<< >> Up Title Contents

BROUGHT NIGH

Heb. x. 19.

               No more veil! God bids me enter
                    By the new and living way--
                                    Not in trembling hope I venture,
                    Boldly I His call obey;
                                    There, with Him, my God, I meet
               God upon the mercy-seat!
               
               In the robes of spotless whiteness,
                    With the Blood of priceless worth,
                                    He has gone into that brightness,
                    Christ rejected from the earth--
                                    Christ accepted there on high,
               And in Him do I draw nigh.
               
               Oh the welcome I have found there,
                    God in all His love made known!
                                    Oh the glory that surrounds there
                    Those accepted in His Son!
                                    Who can tell the depths of bliss
               Spoken by the Father's kiss?
               
               All His joy told out unhindered,
                    Nought but Christ His eye can see;
                                    Christ into His joy has entered,
                    And in Christ He welcomes me.
                                    Would I know how dear to God?
               Priceless, as Christ's precious blood.
               
               "There," He saith, "and thus I meet thee,
                    On the mercy-seat above;
                                    There I commune with thee, greet thee,
                    Tell thee all thy Father's love--
                                    There thy blest reward shall be
               All that Jesus is to Me."
               
               One with Him, O Lord, before Thee,
                    There I live, and yet not I;
                                    Christ it is who there adores Thee;
                    Who more dear, or who more nigh?
                                    All the Father's heart mine own--
               Mine--and yet His Son's alone.
               
               Place of glory, place of blessing,
                    Place where God His heart displays,
                                    All in Thee, O Christ, possessing,
                    Thine the voice that leads our praise;
                                    Thine the new eternal song,
               Through the ages borne along.
               
               As within His Temple olden,
                    Was there seen no costly stone,[1]
                                    Nought but cedar, carved and golden,
                    Nought but Christ, and Christ alone--
                                    So the stones so dearly bought,
               God in heaven beholds them not.
               
               All the worth I have before Him
                    Is the value of the Blood;
                                    I present when I adore Him,
                    Christ, the First-fruits, unto God.
                                    Him with joy doth God behold,
               Thus is my acceptance told.

W. R.

[a]

1[I Kings vi. 18.


<< >> Up Title Contents
This document (last modified May 20, 1997) from the Christian Classics Ethereal Library server, at @Wheaton College