The poem
This is the feast of heavenly wine, And God invites to sup; The juices of the living Vine Were press'd to fill the cup.
Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that eat, With royal dainties fed; Not heaven affords a costlier treat, For Jesus is the bread.
The vile, the lost, He calls to them; Ye trembling souls, appear! The righteous in their own esteem Have no acceptance here.
Approach, ye poor, nor dare refuse The banquet spread for you; Dear Saviour, this is welcome news, Then I may venture too.
If guilt and sin afford a plea, And may obtain a place, Surely the Lord will welcome me, And I shall see his face.