Hymns on the Lord's Supper, 158

All praise to God above,
In whom we have believed,
The tokens of whose dying love
We have even now received.
Have with His flesh been fed,
And drank His precious blood:
His precious blood is drink indeed,
His flesh immortal food.
O what a taste is this,
Which now in Christ we know,
An earnest of our glorious bliss,
Our heaven begun below!
When He the table spreads,
How royal is the cheer!
With rapture we lift up our heads,
And own that God is here.
He bids us taste His grace,
The joys of angels prove,
The stammerers' tongues are loosed to praise
Our dear Redeemer's love.
Salvation to our God
That sits upon the throne;
Salvation be alike bestow'd
On His triumphant Son!
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Who died to die no more,
Let all the ransom'd sons of men
With all His hosts adore:
Let earth and heaven be join'd
His glories to display,
And hymn the Saviour of mankind
In one eternal day.