1. With joy we meditate the grace
Of our High Priest above;
His heart is fill’d with tenderness,
His very name is Love.
2. Touch’d with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.
3. But spotless, innocent, and pure,
The great Redeemer stood,
While Satan’s fiery darts He bore,
And did resist to blood.
4. He, in the days of feeble flesh,
Pour’d out His cries and tears
And in His measure feels afresh
What ev’ry member bears.
5. Then boldly let our faith address
His mercy and His pow’r;
We shall obtain deliv’ring grace
In each distressing hour.