The Lord’s Supper. Zech. 12. 10; Luke 22. 19, 20

J. Hart    C.M.

Lord, who can hear of all thy woe,
Thy groans and dying cries,
And not feel tears of sorrow flow,
And sighs of pity rise?

Much harder than the hardest stone
That man’s hard heart must be;
Alas! dear Lord, with shame we own
That just such hearts have we.

The symbols of thy flesh and blood
Will (as they have been oft)
With unrelenting hearts be viewed,
Unless thou make them soft.

Dissolve these rocks; call forth the stream,
Make every eye a sluice;
Let none be slow to weep for him
Who wept so much for us.

And while we mourn, and sing, and pray,
And feed on bread and wine,
Lord, let thy quickening Spirit convey
The substance with the sign.

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