Forty
- Immortal food in bread concealed
 Whose substance Our dear Lord revealed;
 Unceasing blood of life complete
 Whose strength springs from earthly defeat:
 What gains accrued from sacrifice!
 What pain that brought us to rejoice!
- Unbounded love that suffered pain
 That we might recognise our gain;
 No abstract utterance sent down
 But thorns that made a royal crown:
 And He is here once crucified
 To be the Lamb and yet preside.

