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Poem by Isaac Watts
The provisions of the table of our Lord. Lord, we adore thy bounteous hand, And sing the solemn feast, Where sweet celestial dainties stand For every willing guest. [The tree of life adorns the board With rich immortal fruit; And ne'er an angry flaming sword To guard the passage to 't. The cup stands crowned with living juice, The fountain flows above, And runs down streaming for our use, In rivulets of love.] The food's prepared by heav'nly art, The pleasures well refined They spread new life through every heart, And cheer the drooping mind. Shout and proclaim the Savior's love, Ye saints that taste his wine Join with your kindred saints above, In loud hosannahs join. A thousand glories to the God That gives such joy as this; Hosannah! let it sound abroad And reach where Jesus is.
Isaac Watts's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org