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

2 'Twas well, my soul, he dy'd for thee,
And shed his vital blood,
Appeas'd stern justice on the tree,
And then arose to God.

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

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

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

6 [Ten thousand praises to the King,
"Hosanna in the High'st!"
Ten thousand thanks our spirits bring
To God and to his Christ.]