My God and is thy table spread

My God, and is thy table spread,
And doth thy cup with love O'erflow?
Thither be all thy children led,
And let them thy sweetness know.

Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes,
Rich banquet of his flesh and blood!
Thrice happy he who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heavenly food.

Why are its bounties all in vain
Before unwilling hearts displayed?
Was not for them the victim slain?
Are they forbid the children's bread?

O let thy table honored be,
And furnished well with joyful guests;
And may each soul salvation see
That here its sacred pledges tastes.