O the bitter shame and sorrow,
That a time 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. 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 be 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 supplication:
None of self, and all of thee!


Theodore Monod (1836-1921)