How shall I lift my guilty eyes,

Or dare appear before Thy face,—

When, deaf to mercy’s loudest cries,

I long have wearied out Thy grace,

Withstood Thy power, and cross’d Thy art,

Nor heard, “My son, give Me thy heart?”

How could I, Lord, hold out so long,

So long Thy striving Spirit grieve!

Forgive me the despiteful wrong:

Behold, my all for Thee I leave;

The whole, the whole I here restore,

And fondly keep back part no more.

Lo! I cut off the dear right hand,

Ashamed I should so late obey;

Pluck out my eye at Thy command,

And cast the bleeding orb away;

Lo, with my last reserve I part,

I give, I give Thee all my heart.

My heart, my will I here resign,

My life, my more than life for Thee:

Take back my friends, no longer mine;

Bless’d be the love that lent them me:

Bless’d be the kind, revoking word;

Thy will be done, Thy name adored!

Henceforth Thy only will I choose,

To Christ I die, to Christ I live;

Had I a thousand lives to lose,

Had I a thousand friends to give,

All, all I would to Thee restore,

And grieve that I could give no more.