Jesus, in thee 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-offerings brought

To purge themselves from sin:

Thy life was pure, without a spot,

And all thy nature clean.

3 Fresh blood, as constant as the day,

Was on their altar spilt;

But thy one offering takes away

For ever all our guilt.

4 Their priesthood ran through several hands,

For mortal was their race;

Thy never-changing office stands

Eternal as thy days.

5 Once, in the circuit of a year,

With blood, but not his own,

Aaron with the vail appeared

Before the golden throne;

6 But Christ, with his own precious 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 holy hill;

Looks like a lamb that had been slain,

And wears his priesthood still.

8 He ever lives in heaven to plead

The cause which cost his blood,

And saves unto the utmost those

Who by him come to God.