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 Word made Flesh, by Word He maketh

Very Bread His Flesh to be;

Man in wine Blood partaketh,

And if senses fail to see,

Faith alone the true heart waketh

To behold the Mystery.

Therefore we, before it bending,

This great Sacrament adore:

Types and shadows have their ending

In the new Rite evermore:

Faith, our outward sense amending,

Maketh good defects before.

Honour, laud, and praise addressing

To the and the ,

Might ascribe we, virtue, blessing,

And eternal benison:

, from Both progressing,

Equal laud to Thee be done! Amen.