The holiest we enter
In perfect peace with God,
Through whom we found our center,
In Jesus and His blood:
Though great may be our dullness
In thought, and word, and deed,
We glory in the fullness
Of Him that meets our need.
Much incense is ascending
Before th' eternal throne;
God graciously is bending
To hear each feeble groan;
To all our prayers and praises
Christ adds His sweet perfume,
And love the censer raises,
These odors to consume.
O God, we come with singing,
Because Thy great High Priest
Our names to Thee is bringing,
Nor e'er forgets the least;
For us He wears the mitre,
Where "holiness" shines bright,
For us His robes are whiter
Than heaven's unsullied light.