109. Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness

1. DECK thyself, my soul, with gladness,
Leave the gloomy haunts of sadness,
Come into the daylight’s splendor,
There with joy thy praises render
Unto Him whose grace unbounded
Hath this wondrous banquet founded;
High o’er all the heav’ns He reigneth,
Yet to dwell with thee He deigneth.

2. Hasten as a bride to meet Him,
And with loving reverence greet Him,
For with words of life immortal
Now He knocketh at thy portal;
Haste to open the gates before Him,
Saying, while thou dost adore Him,
"Suffer, Lord, that I receive Thee,
And I nevermore will leave Thee."

3. He who costly goods desireth
To obtain, much gold requireth;
But to freely give the treasure
Of Thy love is Thy good pleasure;
For on earth there is no coffer
Which as payment we might offer
For this cup Thy blood containing,
And this manna on us raining.

4. Ah! how hungers all my spirit
For the love I do not merit!
Oft have I, with sighs fast thronging,
Thought upon this food with longing,
In the battle well-nigh worsted,
For this cup of life have thirsted,
For the Friend, who here invites us,
And to God Himself unites us.

5. Now I sink before Thee lowly,
Filled with joy most deep and holy,
As with trembling awe and wonder
On Thy mighty works I ponder,
How, by mystery surrounded,
Depths no man hath ever sounded,
None may dare to pierce, unbidden,
Secrets that with Thee are hidden.

6. Nay, though reason here doth ponder,
It can never reach this wonder,
That this bread is never lessened ,
Though it nourish thousands present,
And that Christ His blood is giving
With the wine we are receiving.
O these mysteries unsounded
Are by God alone expounded!

7. Sun, who all my life doth brighten,
Light, who dost my soul enlighten,
Joy, the sweetest man e'er knoweth,
Fount, whence all my being floweth,--
At Thy feet I cry, my Maker,
Let me be a fit partaker
Of this blessed food from heaven,
For our good, Thy glory, given.

8. Lord, Thy fervent love hath driven
Thee to leave Thy throne in heaven,
For us on the cross to languish,
And to die in bitter anguish,
To forego all joy and gladness,
And to shed Thy blood in sadnes,
Which we drink now; grant that never
We forget Thy love, dear Saviour!

9. Jesus, Bread of Life, I pray Thee,
Let me gladly here obey Thee,
Never to my hurt invited,
Be Thy love with love requited.
From this banquet let me measure,
Lord, how vast and deep love's treasure;
Through the gifts Thou here dost give me
As Thy guest in heav'n receive me.

Text Information
First Line: Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness
Original Language: German
Author: J. Frank
Publication Date: 1911
Topic: The Lord's Supper
Language: English
Notes: Mel. Schmuecke dich, o liebe Seele
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