Hymn 3:13. 
Divine love making a feast, and calling
in the guests, Luke 14. 17 22 23.

1 How sweet and awful is the place
With Christ within the doors,
While everlasting love displays
The choicest of her stores!

2 Here every bowel of our God
With soft compassion rolls
Here peace and pardon bought with blood
Is food for dying souls.

3 [While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to admire the feast,
Each of us cry with thankful tongues,
“Lord, why was I a guest?

4 “Why was I made to hear thy voice,
“And enter while there’s room? 
“When thousands make a wretched choice,
“And rather starve than come.”]

5 ’Twas the same love that spread the feast,
That sweetly forc’d us in,
Else we had still refus’d to taste,
And perish’d in our sin.

6 [Pity the nations, O our God,
Constrain the earth to come;
Send thy victorious word abroad,
And bring the strangers home.

7 We long to see thy churches full,
That all the chosen race
May with one voice and heart and soul,
Sing thy redeeming grace.]

Hymn 3:14. 
The song of Simeon, Luke 2. 28;
or, A sight of Christ makes death easy.

1 Now have our hearts embrac’d our God,
We would forget all earthly charms,
And wish to die as Simeon would,
With his young Saviour in his arms.

2 Our lips should learn that joyful song,
Were but our hearts prepar’d like his;
Our souls still willing to be gone,
And at thy word depart in peace.

3 Here we have seen thy face, O Lord,
And view’d salvation with our eyes,
Tasted and felt the living word,
The bread descending from the skies.

4 Thou hast prepar’d this dying Lamb,
Hast set his blood before our face,
To teach the terrors of thy Name,
And show the wonders of thy grace.

5 He is our light; our morning star
Shall shine on nations yet unknown;
The glory of thine Israel here,
And joy of spirits near the throne.

Hymn 3:15. 
Our Lord Jesus at his own table.

1 [The memory of our dying Lord
Awakes a thankful tongue: 
How rich he spread his royal board,
And blest the food, and sung.

2 Happy the men that eat this bread,
But double bless’d was he
That gently bow’d his loving head,
And lean’d it, Lord, on thee.

3 By faith the same delights we taste
As that great favourite did,
And sit and lean on Jesus’ breast,
And take the heavenly bread.]

4 Down from the palace of the skies,
Hither the King descends;
“Come my beloved, eat, (he cries)
“And drink salvation, friends.

5 “[My flesh is food and physic too,
“A balm for all your pains;
“And the red streams of pardon flow
“From these my pierced veins.”]

6 Hosanna to his bounteous love
For such a taste below! 
And yet he feeds his saints above
With nobler blessings too.