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.