O little heart of mine,
Won't you make your Savior glad?
Forsake the fleshly trinkets
For the Treasure of the Lamb.
"My love is weak, my heart is cold,"
You whisper fearfully.
But Jesus strokes your brow and says,
"That love is what I seek."
An upturned gaze, a word of praise
Arouses His great love
The very heart of Heaven speeds
At the smallest act of love.
Your love is His great treasure,
It's the crown of His delights.
So, pour it out, however small
On Christ the crucified.