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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.

Text Information
First Line: O Thou who madest water wine
Author: Valdimar Briem
Translator: Charles Venn Pilcher
Meter: D
Language: English
Publication Date: 1913
Tune Information
(No tune information)

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