120    C.M.     Isaac Watts
Christ’s Compassion. Heb 4. 15; 5. 7; Matt. 12. 20

1 With joy we meditate the grace
  Of our High Priest above;
  His heart is made of tenderness;
  His bowels melt with love.

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

3 But spotless, innocent, and pure,
  The great Redeemer stood,
  While Satan’s fiery darts he bore,
  And did resist to blood.

4 He, in the days of feeble flesh,
  Poured out his cries and tears;
  And, in his measure, feels afresh
  What every member bears.

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

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