The veil is rent. Thou now mayest enter in;
No flaming sword of cherub bars thy way;
He who, without the camp, once bore thy sin,
Appears within the holiest to-day
And intercedes for all who come by Him to pray.
His Blood is sprinkled on the mercy-seat,
His Blood is sprinkled, too, before the throne;
Where'er ascends the cloud of incense sweet,
The work of reconciliation all is done:
He lives our great High Priest, who did for sin atone.
Head of the church, behold His glorious face;
His members all accepted in their Head;
In Him all fullness dwells of truth and grace
To meet His people's ever-varying need:
Draw nigh by Him to God without one pang of dread.
Prayer is the breath of faith in God's own ear,
Prayer is the open mouth He waits to fill;
Prayer is the voice our Heavenly. Father hears,
That brings down blessings from His holy hill:
Wisdom to learn and strength to do His gracious will.
First PRAY; then WORK. No work can e'er succeed
That prayerless wit and will to do combine;
All prayerless strength is but a broken reed.—
A withered branch that's severed from the Vine:
No fruits, or works of such, shall heaven-recorded shine.