At MEALS. I. FATHER, our Eyes we lift to Thee, And taste our daily Bread: 'Tis now thy Open Hand we see, And on thy Bounty feed. II. 'Tis now the meaner Creatures join Richly thy Grace to prove; Fulfil thy primitive Design, Enjoy'd by thankful Love. III. Still, while our Mouths are fill'd with Good, Our Souls to Thee we raise; Our Souls partake of nobler Food, And banquet on thy Praise. IV. Yet higher still our farthest Aim; To mingle with the Blest, T' attend the Marriage of the Lamb, And Heaven's Eternal Feast.