Christ My Song - 824
Sweet to trace his toiling footsteps - The great High Priest
(Frances Bevan/Johannes Thomas Rüegg)
The great High Priest.
Hebrews 7, 24-25.
1. Sweet to trace his toiling footsteps
here amidst the desert sands;
bear in memory all his sorrow,
thorn-clad head and piercèd hands!
Learn his love beside the manger,
learn it on the stormy wave,
by the well, and in the garden –
learn it by the Cross and grave. (PDF - Midi)
2. Yet not only in remembrance
do we watch that stream of love –
still am mighty torrent flowing
from the throne of God above.
Still a treasure all uncounted –
still a story half untold –
unexhausted and unfathomed,
fresh as in the days of old.
3. Christ at God's right hand unwearied
by our tale of shame and sin,
day by day, and hour by hour,
welcoming each wanderer in;
on his heart amidst the glory,
bearing all our grief and care;
every burden, ere we feel it,
weighed and measured in his prayer.
4. Fragrant thus with priestly incense
each distress, each sorrow tells
thoughts that fill the heart of Jesus
in the glory where he dwells.
All his love, his joy, his glory,
by his Spirit here made known,
whilst that Spirit speaks the sorrows
of his saints before the throne.
5. He, of old the Man of Sorrows,
pleads before the Father's face,
knowing all the needed solace,
claiming all the needed grace.
We, so faithless and so weary,
serving with impatient will –
he unwearied in our service,
gladly ministering still.
6. Girded with the golden girdle,
shining as the mighty sun,
still his piercèd hands will finish
all his work of love begun.
On the night of his betrayal,
in the glory of the throne,
still with faithful patience washing
all defilement from his own.
7. When the Father's house resoundeth
with the music and the song;
when the bride in glorious raiment
sees the One who loved so long;
then for new and blessed service
girt afresh will he appear,
stand and serve before his angels
those who waited for him here.
8. He who led them through the desert,
watched and guided day by day,
turned the flinty rocks to water,
made them brooks beside the way –
he will bring them where the fountains
fresh and full spring forth above,
still throughout the endless ages
serving in the joy of love.
Frances Bevan, Hymns of Ter Steegen, Suso and others 1, 1899, 49-52.