1 The King of heav'n His table spreads,
And blessings crown the board;
Not paradise, with all its joys,
Could such delight afford.
2 Pardon and peace to dying men,
And endless life are giv'n,
Through the rich blood that Jesus shed
To raise our souls to heaven.
3 Millions of souls, in glory now,
Were fed and feasted here;
And millions more, still on the way,
Around the board appear.
4 All things are ready, come away,
Nor weak excuses frame;
Come to your places at the feast,
And bless the Founder’s Name.
Source: African American Heritage Hymnal #523