Encouraged by thy
Of promise to the poor;
Behold, a beggar,
Lord,
Waits at thy mercy's door!
No hand, no heart,
O Lord, but thine,
Can help or pity wants like mine.
The beggar's usual
Relief from men to gain,
If offered unto thee,
I know thou would'st disdain:
And pleas which move thy gracious ear,
Are such as men would scorn to hear.
I have no right to
That though I now am poor,
Yet once there was a
When I possessed more:
Thou know'st that from my very birth,
I've been the poorest wretch on earth.
Nor can I dare profess,
As beggars often do,
Though great is my distress,
My wants have been but few:
If thou shouldst leave my soul to starve,
It would be what I well deserve. 'Twere folly to pretendI never begged before;
Or if thou now befriend,
I'll trouble thee no more:
Thou often hast relieved my pain,
And often I must come again.
Though crumbs are much too
For such a dog as I;
No less than children's
My soul can satisfy:
O do not frown and bid me go,
I must have all thou canst bestow.
Olney Hymn