by Joseph Stennett (1663-1713)

Lord, at thy table I behold
The wonders of thy grace;
But most of all admire that I
Should find a welcome place,
What strange surprising grace is this,
That such a soul has room!
My savior takes me by the hand,
My Jesus bids me come.
“Eat, O my friends,” the Savior cries,
“The feast was made for you;
For you I groaned, and bled, and died,
And rose and triumphed too.”

Advertisements