Christ's Compassion to the Tempted

With Joy we meditate the Grace Of our high Priest above; His Heart is made of Tenderness, His Bowels melt with Love.

Touch'd with a Sympathy within He knows our feeble Frame; He knows what sore Temptations mean, For he hath felt the same.

He in the Days of feeble Flesh Pour'd out his Cries and Tears And in his Measure feels afresh What every Member bears.

He'll never quench the smoaking Flax But raise it to a Flame, The bruised Reed he never breaks Nor scorns the meanest Name

Then let our humble Faith address His Mercy and his Power: We shall obtain delivering Grace In the distressing Hour.