Content with Crumbs
Only the unworthy are welcome to the feast,
Who’d be content with crumbs around their Master’s feet.
Their righteousness is rags, their lips and souls unclean.
How dare they take a seat with him who is pristine?
They tremble as the King stoops down to where they hide,
And bids them sit by him, and at his meal abide.
For man stares up above, but God looks down below,
And sits with the lowly, forgiveness to bestow.