1 

Olives that have known no pressure

   No oil can bestow;

If the grapes escape the winepress,

   Cheering wine can never flow;

Spikenard only through the crushing,

   Fragrance can diffuse.

Shall I then, Lord, shrink from suff'ring

   Which Thy love for me would choose?

 2 

Do my heartstrings need Thy stretching,

   Songs divine to prove?

Do I need for sweetest music

   Cruel treatment of Thy love?

Lord, I fear no deprivation

   If it draws to Thee;

I would yield in full surrender

   All Thy heart of love to see.

 3 

I'm ashamed, my Lord, for seeking

   Self to guard alway;

Though Thy love has done its stripping,

   Yet I've been compelled this way.

Lord, according to Thy pleasure

   Fully work on me;

Heeding not my human feelings,

   Only do what pleases Thee.

 4 

If Thy mind and mine should differ,

   Still pursue Thy way;

If Thy pleasure means my sorrow,

   Still my heart shall answer, "Yea!"

'Tis my deep desire to please Thee,

   Though I suffer loss;

E'en though Thy delight and glory

   Mean that I endure the cross.

 5 

Oh, I'll praise Thee, e'en if weeping

   Mingle with my song.

Thine increasing sweetness calls forth

   Grateful praises all day long.

Thou hast made Thyself more precious

   Than all else to me:

Thou increase and I decrease, Lord —

   This is now my only plea.