With venerable air
He then looked up to God,
A blessing craved on all,
And on our daily food;
Then kindly begged
I would excuse
Their humble fair,
And not refuse.--

The tablecloth, though coarse,
Was of a snowy white,
The vessels, spoons, and knives
Were clean and dazzling bright;
So down we sat
Devoid of care,
Nor envied kings
Their dainty fare.

When nature was refreshed,
And we familiar grown;
The good old man exclaimed,
"Around Jehovah's throne,
Come, let us all
Our voices raise,
And sing our great
Redeemer's praise!"

Their artless notes were sweet,
Grace ran through every line;
Their breasts with rapture swelled,