The King Of Heaven A Feast Has Made


The King of heav’n a feast has made
And to his much lov’d friends,
The faint, the famish’d, and the sad,
His invitation sends.

Lo, at thy gracious bidding, Lord,
Tho’ vile and base we come,
O, speak the reconciling word,
And welcome wand’rers home.

Impart to all thy flock below
The blessings of thy death:
On ev’ry mourning soul bestow
Thy love, thy hope, thy faith.

May each, with strength from heav’n end’d
Say, “My beloved’s mine;
“I eat his flesh, and drink his blood,
“In signs of bread and wine.”