1 He sat to watch o’er customs paid,
A man of scorned and hardening trade;
Alike the symbol and the tool
Of foreign masters’ hated rule.
2 But grace within his breast had stirred;
There needed but the timely word;
It came, true Lord of souls! from thee,
That royal summons, 'Follow me.'
3 Enough, when thou wast passing by
To hear thy voice, to meet thine eye:
He rose, responsive to the call,
And left his task, his gains, his all.
4 O wise exchange! with these to part,
And lay up treasure in the heart--
Who now with crown of light doth shine
Among the apostolic line.
5 Come, Saviour, as in days of old;
Pass where the world has strongest hold,
And faithless care and selfish greed
Are thorns that choke the holy seed.
6 Who keep thy gifts, O bid them claim
The steward’s, not the owner’s name;
Who yield all up for thy dear sake,
Let them of Matthew’s wealth partake.
Source: The New English Hymnal #189