THERE is a house in heaven built,
The temple of the living God,
The tabernacle true, where guilt
Is washed away by precious blood. FUMP 47.2
Long since our High Priest entered there,
Who knows the frailties of our frame;
Who loves to hear his people’s prayer,
And offer to our God the same. FUMP 47.3
The daily ministry he bore,
Till ended the prophetic days;
He opened then the inner door,
To justify the sacred place. FUMP 47.4
Before the Ark of Ten Commands,
On which the Mercy-seat is placed,
Presenting his own blood, he stands,
Till Israel’s sins are all erased. FUMP 47.5
This work performed, the firm decree
Will pass on all the sons of men,
He that is filthy, let him be,
He that is holy, so remain. FUMP 47.6
To Christ let living faith ascend,
Keep God’s Commandments, patient wait,
Till we shall see our Dearest Friend,
And pass, with him, the pearly gate. FUMP 47.7