O Thou who madest water wine
At Cana's festal board,
Remember me, great Guest Divine,
And speak the mighty word;
The sin that taints life's mingled cup
Transform to Christian grace;
And for just anger, Lord, lift up
The shining of Thy face.
Thy time, O Christ, is not yet come
Heaven's rapture to bestow;
But grant that, exiled here from home,
My heart may thither go:
The earth-renewing sunshine sleeps
Till winter's storms be passed;
And so Thy wisdom, Saviour, keeps
The good wine till the last.
If Thou should'st deign my guest to be,
Full well may I rejoice;
Each anxious festal want shall flee
Thine all-creating voice.
Come sup with me on earth, dear Lord,
Where tears with gladness blend,
That I may join Thy heavenly board
In bliss that knows no end.
|First Line:||O Thou who madest water wine|
|Title:||THE DIVINE GUEST|
|Translator:||Charles Venn Pilcher|