My God and is thy table spread
And doth thy cup with love o’er flow,
Thither be all thy children led,
And let them all thy sweetness know.

Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes,
Rich banquet of his flesh and blood!
Thrice happy he who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heav'nly food.

Why are its dainties all in vain,
before unwilling hearts displayed?
Was not for them the victim slain?
Are they forbid the children's bread?

O let thy table honored be,
And furnished well with joyful guests,
And may each soul salvation see,
that here its sacred pledges tastes.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
the God whom heav’n and earth adore,
From men and from the Angel-host,
Be praise and glory evermore.