1 When through the desert vast
The chosen tribes were led,
They could not plough, nor till, nor sow,
Yet never wanted bread.

2 Around their wandering camp,
The copious manna fell;
Strewed on the ground, a food they found,
But what they could not tell.

3 But better bread by far
Is now to Christians given;
Poor sinners eat immortal meat,
The Living Bread from heaven.

4 We eat the flesh of Christ,
Who is the Bread of God;
Their food was coarse compared with ours,
Though theirs was angels’ food.