Not worthy, Lord, to gather up the crumbs

Not worthy, Lord, to gather up the crumbsWith trembling hand, that from thy table fall,A weary, heavy-laden sinner comesTo plead thy promise and obey thy call.

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.

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 brookThe wrath of Satan and the scorn of men.

I hear thy voice; thou bidst me come and rest;I come, I kneel, I clasp thy piercèd feet;Thou bidst me take my place, a welcome guest,Among thy saints, and of thy banquet eat.