“Ye do show the Lord's death till he come."—1 Cor. 11:26.
“While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof."
—Song of Sol. 1:12.
WHILE in sweet communion feeding
On this earthly bread and wine,
Savior, may we see thee bleeding
On the cross, to make us thine!
Now our eyes forever closing
To this fleeting world below,
On thy gentle breast reposing,
Teach us, Lord, thy grace to know.
Though unseen, be ever near us,
With the still small voice of love,
Whisp'ring words of peace to cheer us,
Every doubt and fear remove:
Bring before us all the story
Of thy life and death of woe,
And, with hopes of endless glory,
Wean our hearts from all below.