There is a sea which day by day
Receives the rippling rills
And streams that spring from wells of God
Or fall from cedared hills
But what it thus receives it gives
With glad unspar ing hand
A stream more wide, with deeper tide
Flows on to lower land
There is a sea which day by day
Receives a fuller tide
But all its store it keeps, nor gives
To shore nor sea beside
It's Jordan stream, now turned to brine
Lies heavy as mol ten lead
It's dreadful name doth e'er proclaim
That sea is waste and dead
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Which shall it be for you and me
Who God's good gifts obtain?
Shall we accept for self alone
Or take to give again?
For He who once was rich indeed
Laid all His glo ry down
That by His grace, our ransomed race
Should share His wealth and crown
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