stice join'd and wrought
The wonders of that day:
No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought
Can equal thanks repay.

7 Our hymns should sound like those above,
Could we our voices raise;
Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love,
And all our lives be praise.

Hymn 3:17.
Incomparable food; or,
The flesh and blood of Christ.

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.

Hymn 3:18.
The same.

1 Jesus, we bow before thy feet,
Thy table is divinely stor'd:
Thy sacred flesh our souls have eat,
'Tis living bread; we thank thee, Lord!

2 And here we drink our Saviour's blood,
We thank thee, Lord, 'tis generous wine;
Mingled with love the fountain flow'd
From that dear bleeding heart of thine.

3 On earth is no such sweetness found,
For the Lamb's flesh is heavenly food;
In vain we search the globe around
For bread so fine, or wine so good.

4 Carnal provisions can at best
But cheer the heart, or warm the head,
But the rich cordial that we taste
Gives life eternal to the dead.

5 Joy to the Master of the feast,
His name our souls for ever bless:
To God the King, and God the Priest,
A loud Hosanna round the place.

Hymn 3:19.
Glory in the cross; or, Not ashamed
of Christ crucified.

1 At thy command, our dearest Lord,
Here we attend thy dying feast;
Thy blood like wine adorns thy board,
And thine own flesh feeds every guest.

2 Our faith adores thy bleeding love,
And trusts for life in one that dy'd;
We hope for heavenly crowns above
From a Redeemer crucify'd.

3 Let the vain worl