We give Thee but Thine own,
Whate�er the gift may be;
All that we have is Thine alone,
A trust, O Lord, from Thee.

May we Thy bounties thus
As stewards true receive,
And gladly, as Thou blessest us,
To Thee our firstfruits give.

O hearts are bruised and dead,
And homes are bare and cold,
And lambs for whom the Shepherd bled
Are straying from the fold.

To comfort and to bless,
To find a balm for woe,
To tend the lone and fatherless
Is angels� work below.

The captive to release,
To God the lost to bring,
To teach the way of life and peace�
It is a Christ-like thing.

And we believe Thy Word,
Though dim our faith may be;
Whate�er for Thine we do, O Lord,
We do it unto Thee.