There is a feast of great despair
Which some men feel, when gathered there.
No sav’ry taste can they enjoy
When strength of will do they employ
To seat themselves without His grace
And so from them, He hides His face,
And so from them, He hides His face.

In those He’s worked His sov’reign will,
Their hearts to conquer and to fill –
To see the glories of his face
And taste the goodness of His grace;
It spreads their wings in holy fight,
And comes to be their chief delight,
And comes to be their chief delight!

So now with these two set beside
At which table will you reside?
To cling with stealth to your resolve,
Or look to Him to guilt absolve?
To starve to death on self and sin,
Or Christ’s great feast to enter in,
Or Christ’s great feast to enter in?

Then lay your treasure in the dust;
Receive from Him what cannot rust!
And fix your gaze on Him, behold,
Then He will be your finest gold!
Oh plead with Him who freely gives,
Then in His riches you will live,
Then in His riches you will live!

By Murray Brett