The Word, proceeding from above

The Word, proceeding from above,
Yet still at God's right hand in heaven,
Came to His work impelled by love,
And soon life's day declined to even.

A traitor in His chosen band
Betrays his Lord to death and grave;
But ere He died, with His own hand
Himself as food to man He gave.

In double form the gift was made;
He gave them of His flesh and blood,
That so the feast His love purveyed,
Might prove for man sufficient food.

By birth a friend in Him we find;
As food He fills the festal board;
In death the ransom of our kind;
In heaven He is our great reward.

O Saving Sacrifice! that made
The gates of heaven stand open wide,
Be Thou our strength, come to our aid,
When foes would crush on every side.

To Thee, Good Shepherd, who for meat
Dost give Thy flesh to feed Thine own,
To Father, and to Paraclete,
Be praise through ages yet unknown.