277. C. M. Doddridge. All Things Ready. 1 The King of heaven his table spreads, And dainties crown the board: Not Paradise, with all its joys, Could such delight afford. 2 Ye hungry poor, that long have strayed In sin's dark mazes, come; Come from your most obscure retreats And grace shall find you room. 3 Millions of souls, in glory now, Were fed and feasted here; And millions more, still on the way, Around the board appear. 4 Yet are his house and heart so large, That millions more may come; Nor could the whole assembled world O'erfill the spacious room.
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