393    C.M.     J. Fawcett
Craving a Crumb of Mercy. Matt. 15. 27; Luke 18. 39

1 A crumb of mercy, Lord, I crave,
  Unworthy to be fed
  With dainties such as angels have,
  Or with the children’s bread.

2 Have pity on my needy soul;
  Thy peace and pardon give;
  Thy love can make the wounded whole,
  And bid the dying live.

3 Behold me prostrate at thy gate;
  Do not my suit deny;
  With longing eyes for thee I wait;
  O help me, or I die.

4 When thou dost give a heart to pray,
  Thou wilt incline thy ear;
  From me turn not thy face away,
  But my petition hear.

5 So shall my joyful soul adore
  The riches of thy grace;
  No sinner needed mercy more,
  That ever sought thy face.