Lamb’s High Banquet We Await
The Lamb’s high banquet we await
In snow white robes of royal state;
And now, the Red Sea’s channel past,
To Christ, our Prince, we sing at last.
Upon the altar of the cross
His body hath redeemed our loss;
And tasting of His roseate blood
Our life is hid with Him in God.
That Paschal eve God’s arm was bared;
The devastating angel spared:
By strength of hand our hosts went free
From Pharaoh’s ruthless tyranny.
Now Christ our Paschal Lamb is slain;
The Lamb of God that knows no stain;
The true oblation offered here,
Our own unleavened Bread sincere.
O Thou from Whom hell’s monarch flies,
O great, O very Sacrifice,
Thy captive people are set free,
And endless life restored in Thee.
For Christ, arising from the dead,
From conquered hell victorious sped;
He thrusts the tyrant down to chains,
And Paradise for man regains.
Words: Latin, ca. 6th Century; tr. John Mason Neale, 19th Century.