The Beggar's Cup

By grace we are saved And this no small thing For I know the measure of my wretchedness Disordered affections, now which I disdain But grace, who can measure? And the price who can name? The poor cannot fathom The rich but do the same For neither rich nor poor Nor strong nor weak We are all but penniless And powerless though we be Our King comes down And raises up With His strong arm The beggar's cup And fills us with good things