Text: | A Sacramental Hymn |
1 Lord, at Thy table I behold
The riches of Thy grace;
But wonder, most of all, that I
Should find a welcome place:
2 I that am all defiled with sin,
A rebel to my God;
I that have crucified His Son,
And trampled on His blood.
3 What strange, surprising grace is this,
That such a soul has room!
My Saviour takes me by the hand,
My Jesus bids me come.
4 "Eat, oh my friends," the Saviour cries,
"The feast was made for you;
For you I groaned, and bled, and died,
And rose, and triumphed too."
5 With trembling faith, and bleeding hearts,
Lord, we accept Thy love:
'Tis a rich banquet we have had,
What will it be above!
6 Had I ten thousand hearts, dear Lord,
I'd give them all to Thee;
Had I ten thousand tongues, they all
Should join the harmony.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, at Thy table I behold |
Title: | A Sacramental Hymn |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1867 |
Topic: | The Lord's Supper |