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And may the promise of Advent be yours this day and always.

XXXVIII. Serpent of Brass

1 When Israel's grieving tribes complain'd,
With fiery serpents greatly pain'd,
A serpent straight the prophet made
Of molten brass, to view display'd.

2 Around the fainting crowds attend,
To heaven their mournful sigs ascend;
They hope, they look, while from the pole,
Descends a pow'r that makes them whole.

3 But, O, what healing to the heart,
Doth our Redeemer's cross impart!
What life, by faith, our souls receive!
What pleasures do his sorrows give!

4 Still may I view the Saviour's cross,
And other objects count but loss:
Here still be fix'd my feasted eyes,
Enraptur'd with his sacrifice.

5 Jesus the Saviour! balmy name!
Thy worth my tongue would now proclaim;
By thy atonement set me free,
My life, my hope, is all from thee.

Text Information
First Line: When Israel's grieving tribes complain'd
Title: Serpent of Brass
Meter: L. M.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1792
Scripture: ; ;
Topic: The Shadow of the Law, reflecting the Body, which is Christ
Source: Gen. Baptist Coll
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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