 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
An Incident at the Holy Table
At the Lord's Table waiting, robed and stoled,Till all had knelt around, I saw a sign!
In the full chalice sudden splendours shine,
Azure and crimson, emerald and gold.
I stooped to see the wonder, when, behold!
Within the cup a countenance Divine
Looked upwards at me through the trembling wine,
Suffused with tenderest love and grief untold.
The comfort of that sacramental token
From Memory's page Time never can erase;
The glass of that rich window may be broken,
But not the mirrored image of His grace,
Through which my dying Lord to me has spoken,
At His own Holy Table, face to face!
| Lyra Pastoralis | |