1 My God, and is Thy table spread?
And does Thy cup with love o'erflow?
Thither be all Thy children led,
And let them all its sweetness know.

2 Hail, sacred Feast, which Jesus makes,
Rich Banquet of His Flesh and Blood!
Thrice happy he, who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heavenly food!

3 Why are its blessings all in vain
Before unwilling hearts displayed?
Was not for us the Victim slain?
Are we forbid the children's Bread?

4 O let Thy table honored be,
And furnished well with joyful guests;
And may each soul salvation see,
That here its sacred pledges tastes.

5 Let crowds approach, with hearts prepared;
With warm desire let all attend;
Nor, when we leave our Father's board,
The pleasure or the profit end.