1
Not worthy, Lord, to gather up the crumbes
With trembling hand, that from Thy table fall,
A weary, heavyladen sinner comes
To plead Thy promise and obey Thy call.
2
I am not worthy to be thought Thy child,
Nor sit the last or lowest at Thy board
Too long a wanderer, and too oft beguiled,
I only ask one reconciling word
3
One word from Thee, my Lord! one smile, on 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.
4
I heat 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
5
My praise can only breathe itself in pray'r
My pray'r 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! Amen.