I have no wit, no words, no tears;
         My heart within me like a stone
     Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears;
         Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
     I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd 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 perish'd thing;
        Melt and remould it, till it be
    A royal cup for Him, my King:
        O Jesus, drink of me.