The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery :: :: University of Virginia Library

Banquet of bleeding Love, by Christ prepared,
Feast of all feasts! we turn to thee,
Which dying Grace alone declared
Manna of immortality;
For, when the tomb-call must at length arrive,
The Dead shall feel thee in their dust alive.

There, sacrifice and zeal in one combine,
With brotherhood of blissful love;
And faith-born feelings, most divine,
Alighting from their Source above:
Creeds and commands, and penitence and prayer,
With purity and pardon,—mingle there.

And who can celebrate the mystic Rite,
Perfect and pure, predestined Lamb!
Nor feel their glory of delight
Who realise the dread I AM,
And worship Him with tender awe intense
In the deep shade the words “Do this,” dispense?

List, now the pealing organ-swell is o'er
And hymnèd chants dissolve away,
And through yon temple's archèd door
Cold worldlings seek the din of day,
Sublime the hush! as though the Dead drew near
On balanced wing, our beating hearts to bear.

Let the stoled Priests their order'd station take;
The Shrine of sacrifice and prayer
Lord Jesus! Thou wilt not forsake,
But be our felt Atonement there;
Renew'd by faith, and realised in love,
While o'er Thine altar broods the Mystic Dove.

Oh! rapt Communion, which can raise the soul
To the clear heights of sin forgiven,
Scatter the spirit-clouds that roll,
And feed us with the food of heaven,—
Thine is the hour, when dead and living meet
In blended homage at one Mercy-seat!

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Who comes with cold or criticising heart
The outward elements to scan,
In this high Feast can have no part,
Where God comes down to sup with man;
Seeds of Eternity within it lie,
Which bud on earth, to blossom in the sky.

Though bread look bread, and water water seem
To carnal vision dull and cold,
Yet sacraments outsoar the dream
Of those who nought but sense behold:
Faith is the eye by which believers view
Christ in the tokens of His Presence true.

Thou Nourishment for all baptismal souls,
A food high Angels cannot share,
The vastness of thy charm controls
The hearts which palpitate with prayer
Into an awe profound,—but full of grace,
For God incarnate, bleeding for our race.

Incorporate with Emmanuel's Body all
By sacramental union grow,
Who Christ their Resurrection call;
Though sinful dust they seem below,
Faith more than dying Flesh in Man can see,
And in The Lord's our true eternity.

Soul of all Rites! mysteriously sublime,
By whom the fainting Church is fed,
Though veil'd in garbs of sense and time
We know Him, as he breaks the bread!
When Christ dispenses that almighty food,
“Receive my Body and partake my Blood.”

Refreshment, pardon, and renewing grace
God's eucharist to each imparts,
That prints a reverential trace
Of Jesus on their sainted hearts:
And who are they who need no heavenly gift
High o'er the world their sinking hearts to lift?

Humility and hope this Feast inspires,
Chastens the mind, and calms our fear;
And cools the uncontrollèd fires
Of those who fancy heaven is near,
Dreaming they stand on Zion's topmost place
Long ere they learn to wind around the base!

A green oàsis in this herbless life,
This desert lone of dreary hours,
Where Time foregoes each warring strife
And Love renews her languid powers,—
Proves the blest Eucharist, to all who know
The weight of this mysterious life below.

Thy strength'ning Presence, Lord! we pilgrims need,
Sinful, and oft with sadness worn;
For here our bosom'd sorrows bleed
Till even pleasures grow forlorn,
And hues sepulchral robe the world around,
Which looks like Lazarus in his grave-clothes wound.

And what a bulwark for The Church hath been
This feast of sacrificial Love!
For time has no dark error seen,
The Bread and Wine could not remove;
Christ and the creatures, matter, grace, and mind,
In these pure symbols meet, to bless Mankind.

Dove of the Church! Thou Paraclete, descend,
And such anointing grace impart,
That round Thine altar each may bend
With chasten'd will, and contrite heart;
Not with a conscience, such as earth-slaves feel,
But touch'd like Peter, with impassion'd zeal.

Thus we adore Thee, Thou almighty Priest!
Prophet of hope, salvation's King;
Here where the lowest and the least
May learn the song of heaven to sing,
“Worthy The Lamb o'er men and worlds to reign,
Who back to God redeem'd lost souls again!”