Classic Poem

When the morning paints the skies,
And the birds their songs renew,
Let me from my slumbers rise,
Saying, " What would Jesus do? "

Countless mercies from above
Day by day my pathway strew;
Is it much to bless Thy love?
" Father, what would Jesus do? "

When I ply my daily task,
And the round of toil pursue,
Let me often brightly ask,
" What, my soul, would Jesus do? "

Would the foe my heart beguile,
Whispering thoughts and words untrue;
Let me to his subtlest wile
Answer, " What would Jesus do? "

When the clouds of sorrow hide
Mirth and sunshine from my view,
Let me, clinging to Thy side,
Ponder, " What would Jesus do? "

Only let Thy love, O God,
Fill my spirit through and through,
Treading where my Saviour trod,
Breathing, " What would Jesus do? "