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.

I am not worthy to be thought thy child,
Nor sit the last and lowest at thy board,
too long a wand'rer and too oft beguiled,
I only ask one reconciling word.

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

My praise can only breathe itself in pray'r,
My pray’r can only loose itself in thee,
Dwell thou forever in my heart, and there,
Lord, let me sup with thee, sup thou with me.