Hymn for Communicant's Guild

From many a close and crowded place,
From many a lowly room,
Out of the strife of common life,
Out of its toil and gloom,

We come, the children of a King,
Content of heart and gay,
Heirs of the grand untrodden Land
That lieth far away.

And still for strength to keep our hope,
To feed the life we live,
The Feast is spread of Wine and Bread,
And Christ is there to give.

He gives the Faith, He gives the grace,
The pardon of our sin,
The Bread divine, the blessed Wine,
Himself to enter in.

The world's temptations try us sore,
We are the last and least,
But we may kneel and taste and feel
The fulness of that Feast.

Lord, we have sought Thy table oft,
Again—again, 'tis dear,
Joy thus to be remembering Thee,
O joy to know Thee near.

Be with us at Thy sweet Love Feast,
Still feed us with Thy grace,
Till Faith's strong might be lost in sight,
And we behold Thy Face.

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