Christian Songs, Song LXXVII

The victim's flesh, without the camp, Was burnt, as stain'd with sin; Whose blood was for atonement brought, The holy place within.

2 So Christ, that by his blood he might His people sanctify, Loaded with guilt, without the gate, Was led to groan and die.

3 Tho' his pure heart, when tempted much, Ne'er lodg'd an impious thought; Yet sov'reign grace, the sins of all His people, on him brought.

4 The earthly church, tho' ill they meant, Did yet conspire to shew, (By loading him with heinous crimes) He was the victim true.

5 With crime's their own, not his, they did The Just One villify; With felons vile, they led him sorth, A felon's death to die.

6 Thus the reproaches of our crimes Against the Highest done, Not whence they came, fell back;—but fell All on the Holy One.

7 But shall we, dare we, join his foes, By low'ring our esteem Of him, because he stoop'd so low Such wretches to redeem?

8 Nay, rather let us leave the camp, And unto him go forth, Bearing our honour, his reproach, And glory in his worth.

9 Because the sov'reign judge of worth Hath put the highest price On his abasement, and hath made Him Lord of Paradise.

10 Deign'd he to come so nigh to us, As not to count it shame, To call us brethren? Should we blush At ought that bears his name?

11 Nay, let us boast in his reproach, And glory in his Cross: When he appears, one smile from him Will far o'erpay our loss.