The Lord’s Supper. Prov. 9. 1-5; Luke. 22. 19
J. Hart C.M.
The King of heaven a feast has made,
And to his much-loved friends,
The faint, the famished, and the sad,
This invitation sends:
“Beggars, approach my royal board,
Furnished with all that’s good;
Come, sit at table with your Lord,
And eat celestial food.
“My body and my blood receive,
It comes entirely free;
I ask no price for all I give,
But O remember Me!”
Lo, at thy gracious bidding, Lord,
Though vile and base, we come;
O speak the reconciling word,
And welcome wanderers home.
[Rich wine, and milk, and heavenly meat,
We come to buy and live;
Since nothing is the price that’s set,
And we have nought to give.]
Impart to all thy flock below
The blessings of thy death.
On every begging soul bestow
Thy love, thy hope, thy faith.
May each, with strength from heaven endued,
Say, “My Beloved’s mine:
I eat his flesh, and drink his blood,
In signs of bread and wine.”