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O! to be nothing, nothing,
Only to lie at his feet,
A broken and emptied vessel,
For the Master's use made meet.
Emptied, that he might fill me,
As forth to his service I go;
Broken, that so unhindered,
His life through me might flow.
CHORUS
O! to be nothing, nothing,
Only to lie at his feet,
A broken and emptied vessel,
For the Master's use made meet.
O! to be nothing, nothing,
Only as led by his hand;
A messenger at his gateway,
Only waiting for his command;
Only an instrument ready
His praises to sound at his will;
Willing, should he not require me,
In silence to wait on him still.
O! to be nothing, nothing,
Painful the humbling may be;
Yet low in the dust I'd lay me
That the world my Savior might see.
Rather be nothing, nothing—
To him let their voices be raised;
He is the fountain of blessing,
Yes, worthy is he to be praised.