Scripture Verse

Take, eat: this is My body, which is broken for you. 1 Corinthians 11:24

Introduction

portrait
Catherine Winkworth
(1827–1878)

Words: Jo­hann Franck, 1649 (Schmüc­ke dich, o lie­be Seele). Trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by Ca­the­rine Wink­worth, Ly­ra Ger­ma­ni­ca, 2nd Ser­ies (1858) and The Chor­ale Book for Eng­land (1863).

Music: Schmüc­ke dich Jo­hann Crü­ger, Geist­liche kirch­en Me­lo­dien, 1649 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Johann Crüger
(1598–1662)

Lyrics

Deck thy­self, my soul, with glad­ness,
Leave the gloomy haunts of sad­ness;
Come in­to the day­light’s splen­dor,
There with joy thy prais­es ren­der
Unto Christ whose grace un­bound­ed
Hath this won­drous ban­quet found­ed.
Higher o’er all the heav’ns He reign­eth,
Yet to dwell with thee He deign­eth.

Hasten as a bride to meet Him
And with lov­ing rev­er­ence greet Him;
For with words of life im­mor­tal
Now He knock­eth at thy por­tal.
Haste to ope the gates be­fore Him,
Saying, while thou dost ad­ore Him,
Suffer, Lord, that I re­ceive Thee,
And I ne­ver­more will leave Thee.

He who craves a pre­cious trea­sure
Neither cost nor pain will mea­sure;
But the price­less gifts of Hea­ven
God to us hath free­ly giv­en.
Though the wealth of earth were prof­fered,
Naught would buy the gifts here of­fered:
Christ’s true bo­dy, for thee riv­en,
And His blood, for thee once giv­en.

Ah, how hun­gers all my spir­it
For the love I do not mer­it!
Oft have I, with sighs fast throng­ing,
Thought up­on this food with long­ing,
In the bat­tle well nigh worst­ed,
For this cup of life have thirst­ed,
For the friend who here in­vites us
And to God Him­self unites us.

In my heart I find as­cend­ing
Holy awe, with rap­ture blend­ing,
As this mys­te­ry I pon­der,
Filling all my soul with won­der,
Bearing wit­ness at this hour
Of the great­ness of God’s pow­er;
Far be­yond all hu­man tell­ing
Is the pow­er with­in Him dwell­ing.

Human rea­son, though it pon­der,
Cannot fa­thom this great won­der
That Christ’s bo­dy e’er re­main­eth
Though it count­less souls sus­tain­eth
And that He His blood is giv­ing
With the wine we are re­ceiv­ing.
These great mys­ter­ies un­sound­ed
Are by God alone ex­pound­ed.

Sun, who all my life dost bright­en,
Light, who dost my soul en­light­en;
Joy the best that any know­eth;
Fount, whence all my be­ing flow­eth;
At Thy feet I cry, my mak­er,
Let me be a fit par­tak­er
Of this bless­èd food from Hea­ven,
For our good, Thy glo­ry, giv­en.

Lord, by love and mer­cy driv­en
Thou hast left Thy throne in Hea­ven
On the cross for me to lang­uish
And to die in bit­ter ang­uish,
To fore­go all joy and glad­ness
And to shed Thy blood in sad­ness.
By this blood re­deemed and liv­ing,
Lord, I praise Thee with thanks­giv­ing.

Jesus, Bread of Life, I pray Thee,
Let me glad­ly here ob­ey Thee.
By Thy love I am in­vit­ed,
Be Thy love with love re­quit­ed;
From this sup­per let me mea­sure,
Lord, how vast and deep love’s trea­sure.
Through the gifts Thou here dost give me
As Thy guest in Hea­ven re­ceive me.