1[We sing th' amazing deeds That grace divine performs; Th' eternal God comes down and bleeds To nourish dying worms.
2 This soul reviving wine, Dear Saviour, 'tis thy blood; We thank that sacred flesh of thine For this immortal food.]
3 The banquet that we eat Is made of heavenly things, Earth hath no dainties half so sweet As our Redeemer brings.
4 In vain had Adam sought And search'd his garden round, For there was no such blessed fruit In all the happy ground.
5 Th' angelic host above Can never taste this food, They feast upon their Maker's love, But not a Saviour's blood.
6 On us th' Almighty Lord Bestows this matchless grace, And meets us with some cheering word, With pleasure in his face.
7 Come, all ye drooping saints, And banquet with the King, This wine will drown your sad complaints, And tune your voice to sing.
8 Salvation to the Name Of our adored Christ: Thro' the wide earth his grace proclaim His glory in the high'st.