Not Worthy, Lord, to Gather Up the Crumbs

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.

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.

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.

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.

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