Verse 1
For mercies, countless as the sands,
Which daily I receive
From Jesus, my Redeemer's hands,
My soul, what canst thou give?

Verse 2
Alas, from such a heart as mine,
What can I bring forth?
My best is stain'd and dyed with sin
My all is nothing worth.

Verse 3
Yet this acknowledgement I'll make
For all He has bestow'd
Salvation's sacred cup I'll take,
And call upon my God

Verse 4
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.

Verse 5
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