Craving a Crumb of Mercy. Matt. 15. 27; Luke 18. 39
J. Fawcett C.M.
A crumb of mercy, Lord, I crave,
Unworthy to be fed
With dainties such as angels have,
Or with the children’s bread.
Have pity on my needy soul;
Thy peace and pardon give;
Thy love can make the wounded whole,
And bid the dying live.
Behold me prostrate at thy gate;
Do not my suit deny;
With longing eyes for thee I wait;
O help me, or I die.
When thou dost give a heart to pray,
Thou wilt incline thy ear;
From me turn not thy face away,
But my petition hear.
So shall my joyful soul adore
The riches of thy grace;
No sinner needed mercy more,
That ever sought thy face.