O Thou whose of­fer­ing on the tree
The le­gal of­fer­ings all fore­showed,
Borrowed their whole ef­fect from Thee,
And drew their vir­tue from Thy blood.

The blood of goats and bul­locks slain,
Could ne­ver for one sin atone;
To purge the guil­ty of­fer­er’s stain,
Thine was the work, and Thine alone.

Vain in them­selves their du­ties were,
Their ser­vic­es could ne­ver please,
Till joined with Thine, and made to share
The mer­its of Thy right­eous­ness.

Forward they cast a faith­ful look
On Thy ap­proach­ing sac­ri­fice;
And thence their pleas­ing sa­vor took,
And rose ac­cept­ed in the skies.

These fee­ble types and sha­dows old,
Are all in Thee, the truth, ful­filled;
We in Thy sac­ri­fice be­hold
The sub­stance of those rites re­vealed.

Thy me­ri­tor­ious suf­fer­ings past,
We see by faith to us brought back;
And, on Thy grand obla­tion cast,
Its sav­ing be­ne­fits par­take.