1 Sing, my tongue, the Saviour’s glory,
of his flesh the mystery sing:
of the blood all price exceeding
shed by our eternal King,
destined for the world's redemption
from a Virgin's womb to spring.
2 Born for us, and for us given,
born to live like us below,
he, a man with us abiding,
lived the gospel seed to sow;
and at last faced death undaunted,
his self-giving love to show.
3 On the night of that last supper,
seated with his chosen band,
first the passover observing
he fulfils the law's command,
then as food to his disciples
gives himself with his own hand.
4 Word made flesh! His word life-giving
gives his flesh our food to be,
wine as his own blood he offers;
then, though senses fail to see,
faith alone the true heart wakens
to behold the mystery.
5 Therefore we, before him kneeling,
this great sacrament revere;
ancient forms all have their ending
for the newer rite is here;
faith its aid to sight is lending:
though unseen, the Lord is here.
6 Glory let us give and blessing,
to the Father and the Son,
honour, might and praise addressing
while eternal ages run,
and the Spirit's love confessing,
who from both with both is one.