My God, and is Thy table spread,
And does Thy cup with love o’erflow?
Thither be all Thy children led,
And let them all its sweetness know.

Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes!
Rich banquet of His flesh and blood!
Thrice happy he, who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heav’nly food!

Why are its dainties all in vain
Before unwilling hearts displayed?
Was not for you the Victim slain?
Are you forbid the children’s bread?

O let Thy table honored be,
And furnished well with joyful guests;
And may each soul salvation see,
That here its sacred pledges tastes.

Let crowds approach, with hearts prepared;
With hearts inflamed let all attend;
Nor, when we leave our Father’s board,
The pleasure, or the profit end.

Revive thy dying churches, Lord,
And bid our drooping graces live;
And more that energy afford,
A Savior’s blood alone can give.