To win one precious soul for Christ,
One jewel for His crown,
One trophy of His cross to bring,
And at His feet lay down;
Lord, if this be my heart’s desire,
Touch Thou my lips with altar-fire.
The worth of one immortal soul,
What human tongue can tell?
Who measure its redemption cost,
To save from death and hell?
‘Tis God alone can answer make,
He saves, thro’ blood, for Jesu’s sake.
To cause the sightless eyes, to see,
To rouse the careless soul,
Restore the wanderer, wake the dead,
And make the sin-sick whole;
This work, O Lord, is wholly Thine,
Yet use me by Thy power divine.
To breathe one sympathizing word
To hearts by care opprest,
To work for Him who for me died,
While resting on His breast;
Just passive in His hand I’d be,
Content to speak, or silent be.
To catch the music of His voice,
The sunshine of His smile;
To preach the virtues of His blood,
To sinners lost and vile;
For this, Lord, let my life be spent,
For this, Time’s fetters all be rent.
The world, with all its boasted stores,
Of pleasure, wealth, and fame,
Is naught when with one soul compared,
Who trusts Christ’s precious Name;
Since were it gained, ‘twould prove but loss,
Or, in exchange, but dung and dross.
The fields are ripe; the harvest sheaves
Will soon be gathered in;
Sower and reaper both rejoice
When heaven is entered in;
Love’s labor then shall end in day;
The Master’s heart be glad for aye.
S. T.