LORD, I can give Thee nothing. Thou hast bought
My spirit, soul, and body with Thy blood.
I can but yield me to my Lord and God,
To let myself be fed, and clothed, and taught
The happy secrets of Thy perfect love.
And yet, though not my own, Thy tenderness
Doth “fill my hand” that I may daily prove
My life the echo of Thy faithfulness.
I cannot give Thee even love and thanks
Till Thy own love, self-sown within my soul,
Pierces the arid soil with blossomed tanks
Of fragrance for Thy gathering. Thine alone
Myself, and all I have. Lord, take Thine own
And use it as Thou wilt, blest in Thy full control.