Scripture Verse

Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb! Revelation 19:9


Horatius Bonar

Words: Ho­ra­ti­us Bo­nar, 1855. Bonar wrote this hymn at the re­quest of his bro­ther, Dr. John James Bo­nar. Its first pub­lic ap­pear­ance was in Oc­to­ber 1855 in the au­thor’s church. Lat­er that year, St. An­drew’s Free Church in Green­ock, Scot­land, is­sued it in pamph­let form.

Music: Pen­i­ten­tia Ed­ward Dearle, in Church Hymns with Tunes, by Ar­thur S. Sul­li­van, 1874 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Dearle (head-and-shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face;
Here would I touch and handle things unseen;
Here grasp with firmer hand eternal grace,
And all my weariness upon Thee lean.

Here would I feed upon the bread of God,
Here drink with Thee the royal wine of Heav’n;
Here would I lay aside each earthly load,
Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

This is the hour of banquet and of song;
This is the heavenly table spread for me;
Here let me feast, and feasting, still prolong
The hallowed hour of fellowship with Thee.

Too soon we rise; the symbols disappear;
The feast, tho’ not the love, is past and gone.
The bread and wine remove; but Thou art here,
Nearer than ever, still my shield and sun.

I have no help but Thine; nor do I need
Another arm save Thine to lean upon;
It is enough, my Lord, enough indeed;
My strength is in Thy might, Thy might alone.

I have no wisdom save in Him who is
My wisdom and my teacher both in One;
No wisdom can I lack while Thou art wise;
No teaching do I crave save Thine alone.

Mine is the sin, but Thine the righteousness:
Mine is the guilt, but Thine the cleansing blood;
Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace;
Thy blood, Thy righteousness, O Lord my God!

I know that deadly evils compass me,
Dark perils threaten, yet I would not fear,
Nor poorly shrink, nor feebly turn to flee,
Thou, O my Christ, art buckler, sword and spear.

But see, the pillar cloud is rising now,
And moving onward thro’ the desert night;
It beckons, and I follow, for I know
It leads me to the heritage of light.

Feast after feast thus comes and passes by;
Yet, passing, points to the glad feast above,
Giving sweet foretaste of the festal joy,
The Lamb’s great bridal feast of bliss and love.