BY faith I look where Christ has gone,
And see, upon His Father’s throne,
A Man with glory crowned;
His brow is marred, and on His side―
Whence flowed the cleansing purple tide―
And hands, and feet, a wound.
Here is the record of the past―
Fruit of my sins that bound Him fast
To that degrading tree;
In every wound I read my guilt,
And thank Him that His blood was spilled
To set my conscience free.
I look again: and now I see
That blessed Man engaged for me,
His hands uplifted high.
Before the throne of God He pleads,
God’s great High Priest, He intercedes,
And so preserves me nigh.
Once more I gaze upon that face,
And lo―as if to leave His place,
He seems about to rise.
Recalling His “I quickly come,”
I learn His thought―to fetch me home,
To praise Him in the skies.
What love! He washed my sins away,
Thus boldness in the Judgment Day
For me there doth remain.
What grace! now occupied with me,
He wills I should His glory see,
When He returns again.
C. E. P.
“I SAY now to the sinner, Christ has died, and the blood is on the mercy-seat, and you will be received if you come. If he accepts the invitation, I can tell him more. Not only has the Lord Jesus put away sin, but He has borne all your sins, and confessed them as if they were His own; and they are all gone.”
J. N. D.