Israel in Ancient Days

Israel

in an­cient days

Not on­ly had a view

Of Si­nai in a blaze

But learned the Gos­pel too:

The types and fig­ures were a glass

In which they saw the Sav­ior’s face.

The pas­chal sac­ri­fice

And blood-be­sprink­led door

Seen with en­light­ened eyes

And once ap­plied with pow­er

Would teach the need of oth­er blood

To re­con­cile an ang­ry God.

The lamb

the dove

set forth

His per­fect in­no­cence

Whose blood of match­less worth

Should be the soul’s de­fense;

For He who can for sin atone

Must have no fail­ings of His own.

The scape­goat on his head

The peo­ple’s tres­pass bore

And

to the des­ert led

Was to be seen no more;

In him our sure­ty seemed to say

Behold I bear your sins away.

Dipped in his fel­low’s blood

The liv­ing bird went free:

The type

well un­der­stood

Expressed the sin­ner’s plea—

Described the guil­ty soul en­larged

And by the Sav­ior’s death dis­charged.

Jesus

I love to trace

Throughout the sac­red page

The foot­steps of Thy grace

The same in ev­ery age!

O grant that I may faith­ful be

To clear­er light vouch­safed to me!