The Stennetts of England - Joseph Stennett - Hymn Poems

Descend, O king of saints, descend:

Descend, O king of saints, descend:
By thy free spirit's vital heat
Fresh joys to every soul extend,
That at thy table finds a feat.

O prince of peace, bless thou this board
With those sweet smiles which angels chear.
O give us peace; and tell us, Lord,
We're pardon'd, and accepted here.

As thou our hungry souls halt fed,
Our thirsty souls sustained with wine;
Nourish us with this heav'nly bread,
And with this sacred blood of thine.

Teach us to wash our garments clean
In the pure fountain of thy blood;
Lord, purge our souls from every stain
I'th streams of that all-cleansing blood.

Each sin of ours has been a thorn,
A cruel nail, a whip, a spear;
By these thy sacred flesh was torn,
These did thy soul with horror tear.

Yet every wound of shine does yield
A balsam for a contrite heart,
Which, on the painful fore distil'd,
Heals and allays the tort'ring smart.

Amazing love! 'tis infinite!
No thoughts its endless depth can found;
It heaven's high arch exceeds for height,
And for extent, the world's vast round.

Lord, to advance thy praises here,
Increase our light, enlarge our love;
And by thy grace our souls prepare
For better songs and tunes above.

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