Hail, thou living Victim blest,
Truth and life supernal;
Olden types in thee confessed
Find their end eternal
Infinite through thee the praise
To the Father given,
While thy love the Church arrays
As an earthly heaven.

Hail thou ancient Mercy-seat,
Source of grace and favour,
Precious ointment-box replete
With celestial savour,
Thou the God-Man truly art
in divine completeness:
Fed on thee, the loving heart
Knows thy raptured Sweetness.

Hail thou manna from the skies,
Yet more truly givèn
To the pilgrim soul that Sighs
For her promised heavén.
Mystic medicine thou art
For the wounded spirit:
Healed by thee may ev'ry heart
Endless life inherit.