Here, O our Lord, we see you face to face. Here would we touch and handle things unseen, here grasp with firmer hand eternal grace, and all our weariness upon you lean.
Here would we feed upon the bread of God, here drink with you the royal cup of heav'n; here would we lay aside each earthly load, and taste afresh the calm of sin forgiv'n.
This is the hour of banquet and of song; this is the heav'nly table for us spread. Here let us feast and, feasting, still prolong the fellowship of living wine and bread.
Too soon we rise; the symbols disappear. The feast, though not the love, is past and gone; the bread and wine remove, but you are here, nearer than ever, still our Shield and Sun.
Feast after feast thus comes and passes by, yet, passing, points to that glad feast above, giving sweet foretaste of the festal joy, the Lamb's great bridal feast of bliss and love.