1 How rich are thy provisions, Lord,
Thy table furnish'd from above!
The fruits of life o'erspread the board;
The cup o'erflows with heav'nly love.
2 Thine ancient family, the Jews,
Were first invited to the feast:
We humbly take what they refuse,
And Gentiles thy salvation taste.
3 Let the vain world pronounce its shame,
And fling their scandals on thy cause:
We come to boast our Saviour's name.
And make our triumphs in his cross.
4 With joy we tell the scoffing age:
He, that was dead, hath left the tomb.
He lives above their utmost rage,
And we are waiting till he come.