1 If you cannot cross the ocean,
And the heathen lands explore,
You may find the heathen nearer,
You may help them at your door;
If you cannot give your thousands,
You can give the widow’s mite;
And the least you do for Jesus
Will be precious in His sight.
2 If you cannot sing like angels,
If you cannot preach like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus,
You can say, "He died for all";
If you cannot rouse the wicked
With the judgment’s dread alarms,
You can lead the little children,
To the Savior’s waiting arms.
3 Let none hear you idly saying,
"There is nothing I can do,"
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you:
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
"Here I am, send me, send me."
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #10732