Forty
- Immortal food in bread concealed
Whose substance Our dear Lord revealed;
Unceasing blood of life complete
Whose strength springs from earthly defeat:
What gains accrued from sacrifice!
What pain that brought us to rejoice! - Unbounded love that suffered pain
That we might recognise our gain;
No abstract utterance sent down
But thorns that made a royal crown:
And He is here once crucified
To be the Lamb and yet preside.