I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stoneIs numbed too much for hopes or fears. Look right, look left, I dwell alone;I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief No everlasting hills I see;My life is in the falling leaf: O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk;Truly my life is void and brief And tedious in the barren dusk;My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see:Yet rise it shall—the sap of Spring; O Jesus, rise in me.
My life is like a broken bowl, A broken bowl that cannot holdOne drop of water for my soul Or cordial in the searching coldCast in the fire the perished thing, Melt and remould it, till it beA royal cup for Him my King: O Jesus, drink of me.