For mercies, countless as the sands, <br />Which daily I receive <br />From Jesus, my Redeemer's hands, <br />My soul what canst thou give? <br /> <br />Alas! from such a heart as mine, <br />What can I bring him forth? <br />My best is stained and dyed with sin, <br />My all is nothing worth. <br /> <br />Yet this acknowledgment I'll make <br />For all he has bestowed; <br />Salvation's sacred cup I'll take <br />And call upon my God. <br /> <br />The best returns for one like me, <br />So wretched and so poor; <br />Is from his gifts to draw a plea, <br />And ask him still for more. <br /> <br />I cannot serve him as I ought, <br />No works have I to boast; <br />Yet would I glory in the thought <br />That I shall owe him most.<br /><br />John Newton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-shall-i-render/
