None of Self

Oh, bitter shame and sorrow
That a atime 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, and I beheld Him
Bleeding on the accursed 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 heaven,
Deeper than the deepest sea,
Lord, Thy love at last has conquered;
Grant me now my spirit's longing:
None of self, and all of Thee!

Theo Monod