Isaac Watts · 545 of 724

Hymn 37

Lift up your eyes to th' heav'nly seats Where your Redeemer stays; Kind Intercessor, there he sits, And loves, and pleads, and prays.

'Twas well, my soul, he died for thee, And shed his vital blood; Appeased stern justice on the tree, And then arose to God.

Petitions now, and praise may rise, And saints their off'rings bring; The Priest, with his own sacrifice, Presents them to the King.

[Let papists trust what names they please, Their saints and angels boast; We've no such advocates as these, Nor pray to th' heav'nly host.]

Jesus alone shall bear my cries Up to his Father's throne; He, dearest Lord! perfumes my sighs, And sweetens every groan.

[Ten thousand praises to the King, "Hosannah in the highest!" Ten thousand thanks our spirits bring To God and to his Christ.]