Hymn 74
For mercies, countless as the sands
- For mercies, countless as the sands.
Which daily I receive,
From Jesus, my Redeemer's hands.
My Soul, what canst thou give?
- Alas, from such a heart as mine.
What can I bring Him forth?
My best is stain'd and dyed with sin,
My all is nothing worth.
- Yet this acknowledgment I'll make,
For all He has bestow'd.
Salvation's sacred cup I'll take,
And call upon my God.
- The best return for one like me,
So wretched and so poor,
Is from His gifts to draw a plea,
And ask Him still for more.
- I cannot serve Him as I ought.
No works have I to boast;
Yet would I glory in the thought
That I shall owe Him most
Christly Living