Lord Je­sus Christ, Thou liv­ing bread,
May I for mine pos­sess Thee.
I would with heav’n­ly food be fed;
Descend, re­fresh, and bless me.
Now make me meet for Thee, O Lord;
Now, hum­bly by my heart im­plored,
Grant me Thy grace and mer­cy.

Thou me to pas­tures green dost guide,
To quiet wa­ters lead me;
Thy table Thou dost well pro­vide
And from Thy hand dost feed me.
Sin, weak­ness, and in­firm­ity
Am I; O Sav­ior, give to me
The cup of Thy sal­va­tion.

O Bread of Heav’n, my soul’s de­light,
For full and free re­mis­sion
With pray­er I come be­fore Thy sight,
In sor­row and con­tri­tion.
With faith ad­orn my soul that I
May to Thy ta­ble now draw nigh
With Thine own pre­pa­ra­tion.

I mer­it not Thy fa­vor, Lord,
Sin now up­on me li­eth;
Beneath my bur­den, self-ab­horred,
To Thee my spir­it crieth.
In all my grief this com­forts me,
That Thou on sin­ners graciously,
Lord Je­sus, hast com­pass­ion.