BLOOD.
And Moses took the blood, and sprinkled it on the people, and said, Behold the blood of the covenant, which the Lord hath made with you.—Exodus, xxiv. 8.
Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.—Psalm li. 14.
By the blood of thy covenant I have sent forth thy prisoners out of the pit.—Zechariah, ix. 11.
God hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth.—Acts, xvii. 26.
Neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood, he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.—Hebrews, ix. 12.
Almost all things are by the law purged with blood; and without shedding of blood is no remission.—Hebrews, ix. 22.
The blood of Jesus Christ, his son, cleanseth us from all sin.—I. John, i. 7.
Strange is it that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, poured all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
In difference so mighty.
Shakspere.
Ye Sacred Writings! on whose antique leaves
The wondrous deeds of heaven recorded lie,
Say, what might be the cause, that mercy heaves
The dust of sin above the starry sky,
And lets it not in dust and ashes fly?
Could Justice be of sin so over-wooed,
Or so great ill because of so great good,
That, bloody man to save, man’s Saviour shed his blood.
Giles Fletcher.
O, thou great Power! in whom we move,
By whom we live, to whom we die,
Behold me through thy beams of love,
Whilst on this couch of tears I lie,
And cleanse my sordid soul within
By thy Christ’s blood, the bath of sin.
No hallowed oils, no gums I need,
No new-born drams of purging fire:
One rosy drop from David’s seed
Was worlds of seas to quench thine ire:
O, precious ransom! which once paid,
And said by him, that said no more,
But sealed it with his sacred breath:
Thou, then, thus hast dispurged our score,
And dying wert the death of death;
Be now whilst on thy name we call,
Our life, our strength, our joy, our all.
Sir Henry Wotton.
Stretched on the cross, the Saviour dies,
Hark! his expiring groans arise!
See, how the sacred crimson tide
Flows from his hands, his feet, his side.
But life attends the deathful sound,
And flows from every bleeding wound;
The vital stream, how free it flows,
To save and cleanse his rebel foes!
Lord! didst thou bleed? for sinners bleed?
And could the sun behold the deed?
No! he withdrew his sickening ray,
And darkness veiled the mourning day.
Steele.
There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
O may I there, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away!
Dear dying Lamb! thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.
Cowper.
Not all the blood of beasts
On Jewish altars slain,
Could give the guilty conscience peace,
Or wash away the stain.
But Christ the heavenly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away;
A sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood than they.
Watts.