A Collection of Evangelical Hymns ‎#CLXXVII

CLXXVII. My Flesh is Meat indeed

1 Here at thy table, Lord, we meet
To feed on food divine;
Thy body is the bread we eat,
The precious blood the wine.

2 He that prepares this rich repast,
Himself comes down and dies;
And then invites us, thus to feast
Upon the sacrifice.

3 The bitter torments he endur'd
Upon the shameful cross,
For us, his welcome guests, procur'd
These heart-reviving joys.

4 His body torn with rudest hands,
Becomes the finest bread;
And with the blessing he commands,
Our noblest hopes are fed.

5 His blood that from each opening vein
In purple torrents ran,
Hath fill'd this cup with gen'rous wine,
That cheers both God and man.

6 Sure there was never love so free,
Dear Saviour, so divine!
Well thou may'st claim that heart of me,
Which owes so much to thine.

7 Yes, thou shalt surely have my heart,
My soul, my strength, my all:
With life itself I'll freely part,
My Jesus, at thy call.

Text Information

• First Line: Here at thy table, Lord, we meet
• Title: My Flesh is Meat indeed
• Author: Stennett
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1793
• Topic: Lord's Supper

Tune Information

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