Hymns on the Lord's Supper, 56

How dreadful is the mystery
Which, instituted, Lord, by Thee,
Or life or death conveys!
Death to the impious and profane;
Nor shall our faith in Thee be vain,
Who here expect Thy grace.

Who eats unworthily this bread
Pulls down Thy curses on his head,
And eats his deadly bane;
And shall not we who rightly eat
Live by the salutary meat,
And equal blessings gain?

Destruction if Thy body shed,
And strike the soul of sinners dead
Who dare the signs abuse,
Surely the instrument Divine
To all that are, or would be, Thine
Shall saving health diffuse.

Savour of life, and joy, and bliss,
Pardon and power and perfect peace
We shall herewith receive;
The grace implied through faith is given,
And we that eat the Bread of heaven
The life of heaven shall live.