My God, And Is Thy Table Spread

My God, and is Thy table spread,

And does Thy cup with love o'erflow?

Thither be all Thy children led,

And let them Thy sweet mercies know.

Hail; sacred Feast, which Jesus makes

Rich Banquet of His Flesh and Blood:

Thrice happy he who here partakes

That sacred stream, that heavenly food.

O let Thy table honoured be,

And furnished well with joyful guests:

And may each soul salvation see,

That here its sacred pledges tastes.

Drawn by Thy quickening grace, O Lord,

In countless numbers let them come;

And gather from their Father's board

The bread that lives beyond the tomb.

Nor let Thy spreading Gospel rest,

Till through the world Thy truth has run;

Till with this bread all men be blest,

Who see the light or feel the sun.