Hymn After Meat

Refreshed we rise, and for this bread that feeds,By law of man's weak flesh, our daily needs,Let every tongue, the Father's praises sing;The Father Who on His exalted throne,O'er Cherubim and Seraphim, aloneReigns in His majesty, Eternal King.

God of Sabaoth is His name: 'tis HeWho ne'er began and ne'er shall cease to be,Builder of worlds created at His word;Fountain of Life that flows from out the sky,He breathes within us Faith and Purity,Great Conqueror of Death, Salvation's Lord.

From Him each creature life and vigour gains,And over all the Eternal Spirit reignsWho cometh from the Father and the Son:When, dovelike, on pure hearts the heavenly GuestDescends, they are by God's own presence blest,As temples where His holy work is done.

But if the taint of vice or guile ariseWithin the consecrated shrine, He fliesWith speed from out the sin-defiled cell;For, driven forth by guilt's black, surging tide,The offended Godhead may not there abideWhere conscious sin and noisome foulness dwell.

Not chastity nor childlike faith aloneBuild up for Christ an everlasting throneDeep in the inmost heart, devoid of shame:But watchful ever must His servants be,Lest the dark power of sated gluttonyShould bind about the abode of faith its chain.

Yet simple saints, content with frugal fare,More surely find the Spirit present there,Who is our soul's true strength and heavenly food:Thy love for us a twofold feast supplies,O Father, whence the soul may strengthened riseAnd eke the body gain new hardihood.

Thus, fed and sheltered by Thy matchless might,The lions' hideous roar could not affrightThy loyal servant in the days of old:He boldly cursed the molten deityAnd stood with stubborn head uplifted highThat scorned to bow before a god of gold.

Then Babylon's vile mob with fury glows;Death is his doom; and straight the tyrant throwsThe youth to be his savage lions' prey:But faith and piety Thou still dost save,For lo! the untamed brutes no longer rave,But round God's unscathed child they gently play.

Close by his side they stand with drooping mane,The grisly, gaping jaws from blood refrainAnd with rough tongues their whilom prey caress:But when in prayer he raised his hands to heavenAnd called the God, from Whom such help was given,Close-prisoned, hungry, and in sore distress,

A winged messenger to earth He sends,Who swiftly through the parting clouds descendsTo feed His servant, proven by the test:By chance he sees from far the unbought fareWhich the good seer Habakkuk's kindly careWith rustic art had for the reapers dressed:

Then, grasping in strong hand the prophet's hair,He bears him gently through the rushing air,Still burdened with the platter's savoury load,Till o'er the lions' den at last they stayedAnd straightway to the starving youth displayedThe food thus brought, by God's good grace bestowed.

"Take this with joy," he said, "and thankful feed,The bread that in thy hour of direst need,By the great Father sent, Christ's angel brings."Then Daniel lifts his eyes to heaven aboveAnd, strengthened by the wondrous gift of love,"Amen!" he cries, and Alleluia sings.

Thus, therefore, by Thy bounties now restored,Giver of all things good, Almighty Lord,We render thanks and sing glad hymns to Thee:Though prisoned in an evil world we dwellWhere sin's grim tyrant rules, Thou dost repelWith sovran power our mortal enemy.

He roars around us, and would fain devour,Grinding his angry teeth when 'gainst his powerIn Thee alone, O God, we still confide:By evil things we are beset and vexed,Tormented, hated, harassed and perplexed,Our faith by cruel suffering sorely tried,

Yet help ne'er fails us in our time of need,For Thou canst quell the lions' rage, and feedOur hungry spirits with celestial fare:And if some soul no meagre taste would gainOf that repast, but thirstily is fainFull measure of the heavenly sweets to share,

He by the holy seers of old is fed,And shall partake the loyal reapers' breadWho labour in the eternal Master's field:For nothing sweeter than the Word can beThat fell from righteous lips, once touched by Thee,And nought can richer grace to mortals yield.

With this sustained, though vaunting tyrannyBy unjust judgment doom us straight to die,And starved lions rush these limbs to tear;Confessing ever Thine Eternal Son,With Thee, Almighty Father, ever one,His cross with faith unshaken will we bear.