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 widows mite
And the least you do for Jesus
WIl be precious in His sight.

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 wicekd
With the judgment's dread alarms
You can lead the little children
To the Saviour's waiting arms.

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 am I, send me, send me."