Hymns on the Lord's Supper, 114

See there the quickening Cause of all
Who live the life of grace beneath!
God caused on Him the sleep to fall,
And lo, His eyes are closed in death!

He sleeps; and from His open side
The mingled blood and water flow;
They both give being to His bride,
And wash His church as white as snow.

True principles of life Divine,
Issues from these the second Eve,
Mother of all the faithful line,
Of all that by His passion live.

O what a miracle of love
Hath He, our heavenly Adam, show'd!
Jesus forsook His throne above,
That we might all be born of God.

Twas not a useless rib He lost,
His heart's last drop of blood He gave;
His life, His precious life it cost
Our dearly ransom'd souls to save.

And will He not His purchase take,
Who died to make us all His own,
One spirit with Himself to make,
Flesh of His flesh, bone of His bone?

He will, our hearts reply He will:
He hath even here a token given,
And bids us meet Him on the hill,
And keep the marriage feast in heaven.