O Thou whose offering on the tree
The legal offerings all foreshowed,
Borrowed their whole effect from Thee,
And drew their virtue from Thy blood.
The blood of goats and bullocks slain,
Could never for one sin atone;
To purge the guilty offerer’s stain,
Thine was the work, and Thine alone.
Vain in themselves their duties were,
Their services could never please,
Till joined with Thine, and made to share
The merits of Thy righteousness.
Forward they cast a faithful look
On Thy approaching sacrifice;
And thence their pleasing savor took,
And rose accepted in the skies.
These feeble types and shadows old,
Are all in Thee, the truth, fulfilled;
We in Thy sacrifice behold
The substance of those rites revealed.
Thy meritorious sufferings past,
We see by faith to us brought back;
And, on Thy grand oblation cast,
Its saving benefits partake.