In this sad state, Gods Tender Bowells run
Out streams of Grace: And he to end all strife,
The Purest Wheate in Heaven, his deare-dear Son
Grinds, and kneads up into this Bread of Life:
Which Bread of Life from Heaven down came and stands
Disht on thy Table up by Angells Hands. (19-24)

-Edward Taylor, "Meditation Eight" (c. 1700)