Classic Poem

HYMN XI.

See in what grave our Saviour lay,
Before he shed his precious blood;
How he mark'd out the humble way
To sinners thro the mystick flood.

The sun of righteousness his beams,
Tho so divinely fair and bright,
Immers'd in Jordan's swelling streams,
Submitting to this holy rite.

O Jordan! honour'd oft before!
What greater glory would'st thou have,
Than Christ descending from thy shore,
To find in thee a liquid grave?

Thy streams retir'd on either side,
To th' holy ark once form'd a way;
A prophet's mantle could divide
Thy willing streams, taught to obey.

Plung'd by the holy baptist's hand,
Buried in thee our Saviour lies:
Did not thy waters wondring stand,
To see him die, and see him rise?

Blest sepulchre! where Jesus lay,
Which Jesus for us sanctifies!
Blest flood! to wash our sins away,
And sink 'em so as ne'er to rise.