Hymn 15

Our Lord Jesus at his own table[The memory of our dying

Awakes a thankful tongue:

How rich he spread his royal board,

And blessed the food, and sung!

Happy the men that eat this bread;

But doubly blest was

That gently bowed his loving head,

And leaned it,

Lord, on thee.

By faith the same delights we

As that great favorite did;

And sit and lean on Jesus' breast,

And take the heav'nly bread.]Down from the palace of the skies,

Hither the King descends:"Come, my beloved, eat," he cries;"And drink salvation, friends.["My flesh is food and physic too,

A balm for all your pains;

And the red streams of pardon

From these my pierced veins."]Hosannah to his bounteous

For such a taste below!

And yet he feeds his saints

With nobler blessings too.[Come the dear day, the glorious hour,

That brings our souls to rest!

Then we shall need these types no more,

But dwell at th' heav'nly feast.]