The holy place was shrouded,
And veil-concealed in mystery pressed.
In glory it was clouded,
And yet to none made manifest.
Yet there was still a way in
Concealed from every human eye
That holy place God stayed in,
Hiding the face of the Divine.
The parables of symbols,
Have hid the way which led within.
The priests in vain assemble,
Their duty in repeating them.
Yet this was not forever,
For God had planned to make it plain,
These ritual endeavors,
All pointed to the perfect way.
And in the Christ revealing,
The way that passes through the veil.
The wrath of God repealing,
Where sacrifice before had failed.
His blood then is the pavement,
That brings us to the holy place.
His sacrifice the statement,
To enter and behold His face.