We sing th' amazing deeds

We sing th' amazing deeds
That grace divine performs;
Th eternal God comes down and bleeds
To nourish dying worms.

This soul-reviving wine,
Dear Savior, is thy blood;
We thank that sacred flesh of thine
For this immortal food.

The banquet that we eat
Is made of heav'nly things;
Earth has no dainties half so sweet
As our Redeemer brings.

In vain had Adam sought
And searched his garden round;
For there was no such blessed fruit
In all that happy ground.

Th' angelic host above
Can never taste this food;
They feast upon their Maker's love,
But not a Savior's blood.

On us th' almighty Lord
Bestows this matchless grace,
And meets us with some cheering word,
With pleasure in his face.

Come, all ye drooping saints,
And banquet with the King;
This wine will drown your sad complaints,
And tune your voice to sing-

Salvation to the name
Of our adored Christ!
Through the wide earth his grace proclaim,
His glory in the high'st.