1. AARON : and Christ.
SEE Aaron, God's anointed priest,
Within the veil appear,
In robes of mystic meaning dress'd,
Presenting Israel's prayer.
Through him the eye of faith descries
A greater priest than he―
Thus Jesus pleads above the skies
For you, my friends, and me.
He bears the names of all the saints,
Deep on His heart engraved ;
Attentive to the state and wants
Of all His love has saved.
In Him a holiness complete,
Light and perfection shine;
And wisdom, grace, and glory meet-
A Saviour all Divine.
The blood which, as a priest, He bears,
For sinners, is His own ;
The incense of His prayers and tears
Perfumes the holy throne.
In Him my weary soul has rest,
Though I am weak and vile;
I read my name upon His breast,
And see the Father smile.-John Newton.
He hasted to unclasp the priestly robe,
And cast it o'er his son, and on his head
The mitre place; while with a feeble voice,
He bless'd, and bade him keep his garments pure
From blood of souls. But then, as Moses raised
The mystic breastplate, and that dying eye
Caught the radiance of those precious stones,
By whose oracular and fearful light
Jehovah had so oft His will reveal'd,
Unto the chosen tribe whom Aaron loved
In all their wandering-but whose promised land
He might not look upon-he sadly laid
His head upon the mountain's turfy breast,
And with one prayer, half wrapp'd in stifled groans,
Gave up the ghost.-Lydia Huntley Sigourney.
3. ABEL: entering heaven.
TEN thousand times ten thousand sung
Loud anthems round the throne,
When lo! a solitary tongue
Took up a song unknown;
A song unknown to angel ears,
A song that spoke of vanish'd fears,
Of pardon'd sins and dried-up tears.
Not one of all the heavenly host
Could those high notes attain,
But spirits from a distant coast
United in the strain,
Till he who first began the song,
To sing alone not suffer'd long,
Was mingled with a countless throng.
And still as years are fleeting by,
The angels ever bear
Some newly ransom'd soul on high,
To swell the chorus there;
And still the song shall louder grow,
Till all, redeem'd from sin and woe,
To that fair world of rapture go.
Oh grant me, Lord, a golden harp,
And tune my broken voice,
That I may sing of troubles sharp
Exchanged for endless joys!
The song that ne'er was heard before
A sinner reach'd the heavenly shore,
But now shall sound for evermore !