1 Nothing to bring, O Saviour King,
Thou Lamb of Calvary;
No harvest treasures have we bound,
No worthy increase have we found,
No fruitful yield for Thee,
No fruitful yield for Thee.
2 Nothing to bring the risen King,
Who died that we might live;
The scattered sheaves of precious wheat,
All trampled down by careless feet,
No gathered grain to give,
No gathered grain to give.
3 Nothing to bring the loving King,
Who gives unsparingly;
Who offered up His life to save,
Who heeds our cry, who stills the wave,
When tossed on life's dark sea,
When tossed on life's dark sea.
4 How can we meet Thee face to face,
If idle while below?
How can we stand at Thy right hand
If we, while in the lower land,
Shall neither reap nor sow,
Shall neither reap nor sow?
Source: Singing by the Way (Rev. ed.) #52