22
And of the crumbs they were right fain,
Grant me one crumb then that did fall
From thy best childrens' table, Lord,
That I may be refreshed withal,
It will not help enough afford.
The gates of mercy now are closed,
And thou canst hardly enter in:
It is not so as thou supposed,
For thou art deadly siek in sin.
'Tis true indeed, my Lord most meek
My sore and sickness I do feel:
Yet thou the lame didst truly seek,
Who lay long at Bethseda's pool,
Of many that thee never sought,
Like to the poor Samaritan;
Whom thou unto thy fold has brought,
Even as thou didst the widow of Nain
Most gracious God, didst thou not bid
All that were weary come to thee,
Behold, I come! even overload
With sin, have mercy upon me.
The issues of thy soul are great,
Thou art both leprous and unelean,
To be with me thou art not fit,
Go from me then, let me alone.
Let me thy garments once but touch,
My bloody issue shall be whole,
