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1 Sing, my tongue, the Savior’s glory,
Of his flesh the myst'ry sing:
Of the Blood, all price exceeding,
Shed by our immortal King,
Destined for the world’s redemption,
From a noble womb to spring.
2 Of a pure and spotless virgin
Born for us on earth below,
He, as man, with us conversing,
Stayed, the seeds of truth to sow;
Then he closed in solemn order
Wondrously his life of woe.
3 On the night of that last supper,
Seated with his chosen band,
He, the Paschal victim eating,
First fulfills the Law’s command;
Then as food, to the disciples
Gives himself with his own hand.
4 Word made flesh, the bread of nature
By his word to flesh he turns;
Wine into his blood he changes:
What though sense no change discerns?
Only be the heart in earnest,
Faith its lesson quickly learns.
5 Down in adoration falling,
This great sacrament we hail;
Over ancient forms of worship
Newer rites of grace prevail;
Faith tells us that Christ is present,
When our human senses fail.
6 To the everlasting Father,
And the Son who made us free,
And the Spirit, God proceeding
From them each eternally,
Be salvation, honor, blessing,
Might and endless majesty.
Amen.
Source: Breaking Bread (Vol. 39) #25
First Line: | Sing, my tongue, the Savior's glory, Of His flesh the mystery sing |
Author: | Thomas Aquinas |
Translator: | Edward Caswall |
Meter: | 8.7.8.7.8.7 |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1905 |
Copyright: | Public Domain |