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.