Not Worthy, Lord, to Gather Up the Crumbs

Verse 1

Not worthy, Lord, to gather up the crumbs
With trembling hand that from Thy table fall,
A weary, heavy-laden sinner comes
To plead Thy promise and obey Thy call.

Verse 2

I am not worthy to be thought Thy child,
Nor sit the last and lowest at Thy board;
Too long a wanderer and too oft beguiled,
I only ask one reconciling word.

Verse 3

One word from Thee, my Lord, one smile, one look,
And I could face the cold, rough world again;
And with that treasure in my heart could brook
The wrath of devils and the scorn of men.

Verse 4

And is not mercy Thy prerogative—
Free mercy, boundless, fathomless, Divine?
Me, Lord, the chief of sinners, me forgive,
And Thine the greater glory, only Thine.

Verse 5

I hear Thy voice; Thou bid’st me come and rest;
I come, I kneel, I clasp Thy pierced feet;
Thou bid’st me take my place, a welcome guest
Among Thy saints, and of Thy banquet eat.

Verse 6

My praise can only breathe itself in prayer,
My prayer can only lose itself in Thee;
Dwell Thou for ever in my heart, and there,
Lord, let me sup with Thee; sup Thou with me.