Oh! The Bitter Shame And Sorrow,
That A Time Could Ever Be,
When I Let The Saviour’s Pity
Plead In Vain, And Proudly Answered,
‘All Of Self, And None Of Thee.’
Yet He Found Me: I Beheld Him
Bleeding On The Cursed Tree,
Heard Him Pray, ‘Forgive Them, Father!’
And My Wistful Heart Said Faintly:
‘Some Of Self, And Some Of Thee.’
Day By Day His Tender Mercy,
Healing, Helping, Full And Free,
Sweet And Strong, And Ah! So Patient
Brought Me Lower, While I Whispered,
‘Less Of Self, And More Of Thee.’
Higher Than The Highest Heavens,
Deeper Than The Deepest Sea,
Lord, Thy Love At Last Hath Conquered!
Grant Me Now My Soul’s Petition:
‘None Of Self, And All Of Thee.’
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