Ah, since it is thy chief delight
To dwell with us both day and night,
Sweet Jesus, make it ours to be
Both night and day to stay with thee.
43. Hymn of Thanksgiving after Communion.
(I.)
What happiness can equal mine?
I've found the object of my love;
My Saviour and my Lord divine
Is come to me from heav'n above.
He makes my heart his own abode,
His flesh becomes my daily bread;
He pours on me his healing blood,
And with his life my soul is fed.
My love is mine, and I am his;
In me he dwells, in him I live:
Where could I taste a purer bliss?
What greater boon could Jesus give?
O royal banquet! heav'nly feast!
O flowing fount of life and grace!
Where God the Giver, man the guest,
Meet and unite in sweet embrace.
Dear Jesus, now my heart is thine,
Oh, may it never from thee fly
My God, be thou for ever mine,
And I thine own eternally.
No more, O Satan, thee I fear!
O world, thy charms I now despise!
For Christ himself is with me here,
My joy, my life, my paradise.
