O Thou who madest water wine

At Cana's festal board,

Remember me, great Guest Divine,

And speak the mighty word;

The sin that taints life's mingled cup

Transform to Christian grace;

And for just anger, Lord, lift up

The shining of Thy face.

Thy time, O Christ, is not yet come

Heaven's rapture to bestow;

But grant that, exiled here from home,

My heart may thither go:

The earth-renewing sunshine sleeps

Till winter's storms be passed;

And so Thy wisdom, Saviour, keeps

The good wine till the last.

If Thou should'st deign my guest to be,

Full well may I rejoice;

Each anxious festal want shall flee

Thine all-creating voice.

Come sup with me on earth, dear Lord,

Where tears with gladness blend,

That I may join Thy heavenly board

In bliss that knows no end.