AGH 193

Verse 1

With joy we meditate the grace
Of our High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
And ever yearns with love.

Verse 2

Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.

Verse 3

He in the days of feeble flesh
Poured out His cries and tears,
And though exalted,feels afresh
What every member bears.

Verse 4

He’ll never quench the smoking flax,
But raise it to a flame;
The bruisèd reed He never breaks,
Nor scorns the meanest name.

Verse 5

Then let our humble faith address
His mercy and His power;
We shall obtain delivering grace
In the distressing hour.