Hymnal: Hymns, Selected and Original #525 (1828) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Here at thy table, Lord, we meet
To feed on food divine:
Thy body is the bread we eat,
Thy 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 His body torn with rudest hands
Becomes the finest bread;
And, with the blessing he commands,
Our noblest hopes are fed.
4 His blood, that from each op'ning vein
In purple torrents ran,
Hath fill'd this cup with gen'rous wine,
That cheers both God and man.
5 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.
6 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.
Topics: My flesh is meat indeed; The Means of Grace The Lord's Supper Scripture: John 6:53
Here at thy table, Lord, we meet