“What can I bring to offer that is mine?
A youth of sorrow, and a life of sin.
What can I lay upon Thy hallowed shrine,
One hope of pardon for the past to win?
While thus a suppliant at Thy feet I bow,
Still dare I lift to Thee my tearful eyes,
I plead the promise of Thy word, that Thou
A broken, contrite heart will not despise.
“What shall I bring? A bruised spirit, Lord,
Worn with the contest, pining now for rest,