[1 The Mem'ry of our dying Lord
Awakes a thankful Tongue:
How rich he spread his Royal Board,
And bless'd the Food, and sung.

2 Happy the Men that eat this Bread;
But doubly-bless'd was he
That gently bow'd his loving Head,
And lean'd it, Lord, on Thee.

3 By Faith the same Delights we taste
As that great Fav'rite did;
And sit and lean on Jesus' Breast;
And take the heav'nly Bread.]

4 Down from the Palace of the Skies,
Hither the King descends,
"Come, my Beloved, eat," (he cries)
"And drink Salvation, Friends.

[5 "My Flesh is Food and Physick too,
"A Balm for all your Pains;
"And the red Streams of Pardon flow
"From these my pierced Veins."]

6 Hosanna to his bounteous Love
For such a Feast below!
And yet he feeds his Saints above
With nobler Blessings too.

[7 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.]