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The Holy Communion

The Thanksgiving.


Schmücke dich o liebe Seele

J. Frank. 1653.

Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness,

Leave the gloomy haunts of sadness,

Come into the daylight's splendour,

There with joy thy praises render

Unto Him, whose boundless grace

Grants thee at His feast a place;

He whom all the heavens obey

Deigns to dwell in thee to-day.


Hasten as a bride to meet Him,

And with loving reverence greet Him,

Who with words of life immortal

Now is knocking at thy portal;

Haste to make for Him a way,

Cast thee at His feet, and say:

Since, O Lord, Thou com'st to me,

Never will I turn from Thee.

Ah how hungers all my spirit,

For the love I do not merit!

Ah how oft with sighs fast thronging

For this food have I been longing!

How have thirsted in the strife

For this draught, O Prince of Life,

Wish'd, O Friend of man, to be

Ever one with God through Thee!

Here I sink before Thee lowly,

Fill'd with joy most deep and holy,

As with trembling awe and wonder

On Thy mighty works I ponder;

On this banquet's mystery,

On the depths we cannot see;

Far beyond all mortal sight

Lie the secrets of Thy might.

Sun, who all my life dost brighten,

Light, who dost my soul enlighten,

Joy, the sweetest man e'er knoweth,

Fount, whence all my being floweth,


Here I fall before Thy feet,

Grant me worthily to eat

Of this blessed heavenly food,

To Thy praise, and to my good.

Jesus, Bread of Life from Heaven,

Never be Thou vainly given,

Nor I to my hurt invited;

Be Thy love with love requited;

Let me learn its depths indeed,

While on Thee my soul doth feed;

Let me here so richly blest,

Be hereafter too Thy guest.

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