1 This feast was Jesus' high behest,
This cup of thanks his last request.
Ye, who can feel his worth, attend:
East, drink, in mem'ry of your friend.
2 Around the patriot's bust ye throng;
Him ye exalt in swelling song;
For him the wreath of glory bind,
Who freed from vassalage his kind.
3 And shall not he your praises reap,
Who rescues from the iron sleep?
The great Deliverer, whose breath
Unbinds the captives e'en of death?
4 Shall he, who, sinful men to save,
Became a tenant of the grave,
Unthank'd, uncelebrated, rise,
Pass unremember'd to the skies?
5 Christians! unite with loud acclaim,
To hymn the Saviour's welcome name.
On earth extol his wondrous love;
Repeat his praise in worlds above.
Source: Hymns, Selected and Original: for public and private worship (1st ed.) #521
First Line: | This feast was Jesus' high behest |
Copyright: | Public Domain |