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? Chorus Each blow I suffer Is true gain to me. In the place of what Thou takest Thou dost give Thyself to me. 2 Do my heart-strings 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.

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