I have no wit, no words, no tears;
         My heart within me like a stone
Is 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 hold
One drop of water for my soul
         Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing,
         Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him my King:
                 O Jesus, drink of me!