This is the hour  of banquet and of song;
this is the heav’nly table spread for me;
here let me feast, and feasting, still prolong
the brief, bright hour of fellowship with thee.

Too soon we rise, we go our separate ways;
the feast, though not the love, is past and gone,
the bread and wine consumed, yet all our days
thou still art here with us—our Shield and Sun.

Feast after feast thus comes and passes by,
and passing, points to the glad feast above,
giving us foretaste of the festal joy,
the Lamb’s great marriage feast of bliss and love.

— Horatius Bonar, 1855, alt.