1 My God, and is thy table spread?
And does thy cup with love o'erflow?
Thither be all thy children led,
And let them thy sweet mercies know.
2 Hail sacred feast, which Jesus makes!
Rich banquet of his flesh and blood!
Thrice happy he who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heav'nly food!
3 Why are its dainties all in vain
Before unwilling hearts display'd?
Was not for you the victim slain,
Are you forbid the children's bread?
4 O let thy table honour'd be,
And furnish'd well with joyful guests;
And may each soul salvation see,
That here its sacred pledges tastes!
4 Drawn by thy quick'ning grace, O Lord!
In countless numbers let them come,
And gather from their father's board,
The bread that lives beyond the tomb!
5 Nor let thy spreading gospel rest,
Till through the world thy truth has run,
Till with this bread all men be blest,
Who see the light, or feel the sun!
Text Information | |
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First Line: | My God, and is thy table spread |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1792 |
Topic: | Holy Communion |