794    L.M.     J. Hart
The High Priest. Ps. 45. 7, 8; Heb. 5. 6, 7

1 When Aaron, in the holiest place,
  Atonement made for Israel’s race,
  The names of all their tribes expressed,
  He wore conspicuous on his breast.

2 Twelve lettered stones, with sculpture bold,
  Deep seated in the wounded gold,
  Glowed on the breastplate richly bright,
  And beamed with characteristic light.

3 His hands a golden censer held,
  With burning coals and incense filled,
  Which clouded all the holy room
  With odorous streams of rich perfume.

4 And, lest the priest the place defile,
  A costly, consecrating oil,
  With mingled gums and spices sweet,
  Had for his office made him meet.

5 The liquid compound from his head
  Its unctuous odours downward spread;
  Delicious drops, like balmy dews,
  O’er all the man their sweets diffuse.

6 Arrayed in hallowed vests he stood,
  Sprinkled with holy oil and blood;
  The tabernacle’s sacred frame,
  And all within it shared the same.

7 So, when our great Melchisedec
  The true atonement came to make,
  A holy oil anoints him too,
  Richer than Aaron ever knew.

8 His body, bathed in sweat and blood,
  Showered on the ground a purple flood;
  The rich effusion copious ran,
  To glad the heart of God and man.

9 Deep in his breast engraved he bore
  Our names, with every penal score,
  When pressed to earth he prostrate lay;
  Shocked at the sum, yet prompt to pay.

10 The fragrant incense of his prayer
  To heaven went up through yielding air;
  Perfumed the throne of God on high,
  And calmed offended Majesty.