Sacramental Hymns.

The eye of Faith, that waxes bright Each moment by thine altar's light, Sees them e'en now: they still abide In mystery kneeling at our side;

And with them every spirit blest, From realms of triumph or of rest, From Him who saw creation's morn, Of all thine angels eldest born,

To the poor babe, who died to- day, Take part in our thanksgiving lay, Watching the tearful joy and calm, While sinners taste thine heavenly balm.

Sweet awful hour! the only sound One gentle footstep gliding round, Offering by turns on Jesus' part The Cross to every hand and heart.

Refresh us, Lord, to hold it fast; And when thy veil is drawn at last, Let us depart where shadows cease, With words of blessing and of peace.

Welcome to the Table.

THIS is the feast of heav'nly wine, And God invites to sup; The juices of the living vine Were press'd to fill the cup.

O bless the Saviour, ye that eat, With royal dainties fed:

Not heav'n affords a costlier treat, For Jesus is the bread.

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