Empty, We Come

Empty, We Come
by Amy Carmichael (missionary to India)

O Love of loves, we have no good to bring Thee,
No single good of all our hands have wrought.
No worthy music have we found to sing Thee,
No jeweled word, no quick up-soaring thought.

And yet we come; and when our faith would falter
Show us, O Lord, the quiet place of prayer,
The golden censer and the golden altar,
And the great angel waiting for us there.